It happened again yesterday. I was flying home from my weeklong visit with my daughter, son-in-law and grandson. (Yes, there will be photos.) I had the airplane adventure so common these days. Security? No problem. The TSA kept things flowing well. It’s on the plane where things got icky.
I board a plane for Las Vegas, my stopover point en route home from Sacramento. I settle into my seat, and before I know it a very tall man is sitting down next to me. He is filling his seat and then some. No, this isn’t a case of overweight spillover, this is just a very tall guy usurping the armrest, and even putting one foot into the floor space in front of my seat. It was a real Larry Craig moment, without the sexual innuendo.
I wanted to say something, like, “Excuse me, but that’s for my stuff and for my feet.” But since my feet don’t even reach the floor, and my bags had plenty of room, it wouldn’t have had much basis. If anything, this guy was doing well to fit where he was. On a technicality I could have had him evicted, I guess, but it wouldn’t have been very generous of me. But the armrest thing has always annoyed me. There’s the presumption that you should just scrunch over into the far half of your seat and leave the armrest and its surrounding real estate to the alpha male. Who, quite honestly, is sometimes a female.
To make matters worse, this guy obviously had a head cold, and I did not want to end up with his disease (or any other.) So here I was on an hour and a half flight next to this long-limbed, spread-out, nose-blowing passenger, who seemed to have little regard for boundaries and the unwritten rules of ‘personal space’. Suck it up and deal, as they say…
We deplane in Vegas, and all I care about is the ability to stand erect and walk. I’m not sure whose body type those airplane seats are designed for, but it sure isn’t mine. I’m kind of walking like Cro-Magnon man for the first 30 feet or so. But standing feels great. Walking feels better still. And of course, there’s the much-anticipated rest room!
An hour later I’m on the flight home, and guess who sits down right next to me again? Yep—and it’s exactly the same story all over again. Armrest? Check. Foot placement? Check. Sneezing? Check and double check!
Finally, I gathered up my courage, put on my seatbelt and tapped him on the arm.
“Honey,” I said. “If you weren’t my husband this would really tick me off.”
Thursday, October 8, 2009
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it was a real Larry Craig moment...without the sexual innuendo..
ReplyDeletemade me laugh OUT loud.
Leah, my lambikins, the only thing that would make this story better would be for you to experience flying with the legs of someone who is 6'8". It makes everything worse.
ReplyDelete**laughing** Poor you!! You make me laugh always:-) Thanks for being such a good cheer! And hoope your husband is feeling better.. Blessings..
ReplyDeleteI'm lauging so hard, I'm not sure what to type here! I've got to remember that line.
ReplyDeleteLMAO! I wasn't expecting that ending. That's funny.
ReplyDeletethis is so funny! You totally got me.
ReplyDeleteHey Leah, glad you're back! And like Margo, you got me! As a 6'5" fella, the problems of airline discomfort are no strangers to me. I try to be a good passenger, but almost lost my rag once when, having been allocated an "exit seat" (legroom!), I ended up with the bulky emergency raft in front of me, and less legroom than usual. This was compounded by the presence of an Eastern European dwarf next to me, whose feet barely reached the end of his seat, let alone the floor. And HE had the extended legroom! I couldn't make him understand that I wanted to swap. But hey, it was only 11 hours from San Francisco to London! GAGH! Indigo
ReplyDeleteGood stuff. I was sucked in too.
ReplyDeleteHahahahaha! That was too funny! :o)
ReplyDeleteThe joys of air travel! We are traversing the same biological highpoints in life, I think, so we were in our formative (and impressionable) years when air travel seemed exotic, stewardesses were cool (and called stewardessesk) with their cute little uniforms and perky attitudes, and passengers were dressed up and civilized. Now it's a cattle call and sweat pants seem to be the order of the day -- at least smoking is no longer allowed on the plane!
ReplyDeleteStopping by from SITS.
I take my husband places and just like your's he always comes back! Congrats on the Erma Bombeck Award, my dear husband says I remind him of Erma Bombeck after a few bong hits. You visited N.E.O. Moms today and I am so glad you did, I will be back, you are hilarious.
ReplyDeleteHaha very funny.
ReplyDeleteI hate when people hog the armest. My husband does that all the time and I'm all, "Excuse me? I pushed 2 human beings out. I get the armrest."
Hahahahahaha!
ReplyDeleteOn my most recent trip I got sat next to the cliche overweight smelly man who literally spilled into half of my seat, even after I put the arm rest down. What the heck? I paid just as much for my ticket as he did??
Oh, good Lord! What are the odds? You poor thing! I hope he was more respectful after that. Did you don a surgical mask and gloves for the remainder of the flight? I would have!
ReplyDeleteI am short myself and the backs of those seats are awful!! I end up with the 'pillow' portion pushing my head forward so I get to stare at my boobs the whole flight. ugh.
ReplyDelete:-)
Stopping by from SITS... Great post! It made me laugh out loud! Happy Holidays to you.
ReplyDeleteGreat post! Stopping by from SITS. Merry SITSmas!
ReplyDeletelol very funny post...
ReplyDeleteYou got both me & my husband (which I was reading it outloud too)with the ending
Passed by from SITS :)
Blessings,
Eevee