Shallow end of the gene pool

You know how sometimes when you get on a plane, you get to your seat, clap eyes on the incumbent next to you and think "Oh, for fuck's sake. I do not want to be stuck next to that for the next [x] minutes/hours"? Something which, in my experience, almost invariably occurs when the plane is full, thus precluding you from seeking alternate accommodation.

On Saturday evening I boarded my flight to Heathrow at Frankfurt and found my travelling companion was a shell-suited Geordie in a Glasgow Rangers shirt with a Newcastle United baseball cap glued to his skull. Excellent. Three forms of life I least like all rolled into one. Naturally, as if this came as any surprise, this guy turned out to be a moron. Listen, Geordie, even in Newcastle the superlative of "boring" is "most boring", not "most borin'est".