Words & Tales

Groups “B” & “C” stormed into the Southwest aircraft. It was survival of the pushiest. I, on the other hand, was breathing easy having landed that choice aisle seat with ample bin space directly above. I wasn’t smug, but I admit that it felt rather sexy being in the “A” group. It was well worth the extra ten bucks to get the “Early-Bird Check-In” they offer. I was on my way home from a great reunion weekend and I didn’t want it ruined by having to occupy the supreme galactic punishment…a middle seat.

One by one the “B” & “C” faces scoped out the seat situation and overhead opportunities. A few still hopeful. Others glum. Most simply resigned to being squishified for the next two hours.

At the time I placed my happy derriere down in seat 7D, the middle seat was vacant. Of course, it was vacant. Middle seats are losers. The last ones picked. As people passed by my row, you could sense their disdain at the empty center seat. I began to feel compassion, not only for the passengers, but also for the wallflower saddle beside me.

Competition for the most comfortable location swelled the cabin. I overheard a twenty-something whisper to her friend, “See that aisle seat up there. Push through and go spit on it.” Her friend turned back and gave her a dirty look. “Hey dude, I was only kidding.” I don’t think she was.

A row in front of me, opposite side, was a middle-seat marauder. You know the type. Nabbing an aisle seat, she was now at work hoarding the center one next to her. She plopped her XL purse on top of it and got real busy exuding territorial body language. Her plan to populate both seats was in vain, of course, because the flight was full. Soon the jig would be up, and she’d be space-challenged like the rest of us.

Actually, who could blame her? If you’re over five-foot-two and weigh more than a hundred pounds, you’re doomed for discomfort. Unless you’re flying first-class. But, on Southwest, everyone is first-class, aren’t they?

The rear window and aisle seats quickly began to fill and I knew I was getting close to having a neighbor. Who would the fates place next to me? I hoped for George Clooney but he doesn’t usually fly Southwest. However, I’d be duly contented with someone who practices good personal hygiene and has a decent-sized bladder.

to be continued…

(BTW…according to a recent survey a majority of people would rather get stuck in traffic (56%), go on a blind date (56%) or go to the dentist (54%) and have a hole drilled in their head than sit in the middle seat of a full flight. Just sayin’…)