Скачать или смотреть Why Perfect Solutions Don't Exist (And Never Will)

Andrew Zimmern is on a plane. First class, third row. An elderly woman boards and needs to get to her seat. The man on the aisle—one row ahead of Zimmern—refuses to stand up. She has to squeeze past him awkwardly.

Zimmern says something. Loud enough for his wife to hear. Loud enough to earn a warning nudge.Later, the woman needs to use the restroom. Same thing—the man won't move. Zimmern says something louder. More pointed. His wife hisses: Don't say another effing word.When the flight lands, the woman is rushing to make a connection. Again, she has to push past this guy. And Zimmern snaps.

He reaches out. Taps the man on the shoulder. Launches into a rant loud enough for everyone to hear: "You know something, pal? The least you could have done was get up when the lady came in. The least you could have done when she went to the bathroom was give her another shot. But to have her push past you to exit? I can't think of anything more selfish."

The other passengers are enjoying this. Zimmern is on a roll.

Then the airline staff comes on with a wheelchair. A handler lifts the quadriplegic man out of his seat, places him into his wheelchair, and wheels him off the plane.

The man turns—he can barely move his neck—and says to Zimmern: "Have a nice day."

Zimmern pauses. Then says to the audience at the Welcome Conference: That's me. I'm that guy.