De-o for the B-O

As I got on the plane to Amsterdam this afternoon, I got a hint of the distinct "Europe smell". As I walked down the aisle to my row, the smell got stronger and stronger. I waited for me to pass the apex and for the smell to slowly fade. And then I stopped at row 15. I put my bag in the overhead bin, looked down to my row, and asked the gentleman sitting if I could squeeze by to get to my window seat at 15A. The epicenter, the gentleman, was 15B. I have never been so unconcerned with air pressure as to actually, seriously, want to open the airplane window at 10,000 feet.