If we were having coffee, I’d tell you that I used to be an unlucky flyer. Missed flights, cancelled flights, missed connections, grouchy airplane service workers, late luggage, smelly seatmates, ridiculous turbulence, getting sick, always being picked to be pulled aside by TSA, that one smackdown with the ticket counter dude, and it goes on and on. But my flying luck changed one day thanks to some really tall guy with impossibly long legs.
If we were having coffee, I’d tell you about that one time I got an exit row aisle seat. Getting an exit row seat when you didn’t ask for it is like winning the airplane lottery. All that extra space? Score! Yes, there comes the added responsibility of doing something or another with the door if the plane crashes. It is a responsibility I’ll gladly take any day.
I always ask for an aisle set when I fly. Always. I’m not a fan of sitting by the window because I don’t like to be trapped plus looking out the window makes me feel nauseated sometimes. I can’t sit in a middle seat because I flat out refuse to do it. I just can’t. Plus, I tend to go to the bathroom a lot when I fly. Nerves I guess. Therefore, an aisle seat really is the only option for me.
On the day my luck changed, I was flying from Dallas to Washington DC. When I located my seat, I was thrilled to find that my aisle seat was on the exit row. Score! I stowed my backpack, took out my phone and headphones, had my book in hand, and snuggled up with my airplane blanket. I was ready for take off.
There was this really gigantic gentlemen on the opposite side of the plane. He was a couple of rows ahead of me sitting in an aisle seat. Bless his heart, his knees were in his chest. I giggled thinking about how I bet he wished he had my aisle seat.
If we were having coffee, I’d get mad at you if you tried to point out that I’m super short. I’m sensitive about my height. What I lack in meters (See how I didn’t say feet? I’m international!), I make up in attitude. I’d tell you that it doesn’t really matter what my height is, it was my seat fair and square.
That is exactly what I thought when I saw Mr. Tall Man sitting uncomfortably, “It’s my seat fair and square!” I didn’t care if he seemed uncomfortable. Besides, I had agreed to that thing I was supposed to do with the door. That’s a binding contract. I started reading my book, but I could see Mr. Tall Man glancing back at me. I moved my book to block him from my line of sight. Then, I sat with my feet in the chair because it was comfy, and I’m short. I accidentally made eye contact with Mr. Tall Man and immediately put my book back up.
If we were having coffee, I’d reiterate that it was my seat- fair and square, but every time I glanced Mr. Tall Man’s way he was adjusting uncomfortably in his seat; I felt bad. I was so happy when I discovered my seat. Within 15 minutes I was actually thinking about giving it up. Switching seats would be the right thing to do, but…
I continued pretending to read my book, but I was really deciding if I was going to ask Mr. Tall Man to switch seats. He beat me to it. He walked over to me and took a knee. Mr. Tall Man looked at me for a second and said, “We both know why I’m here.” I tried to be icy and stoic. I really did, but instead I laughed. I laughed loudly. I told him I knew why he was there, and I’d be happy to switch with him. We made everything legal with the stewardess, and he bought me a beverage as a demonstration of his appreciation.
Like I said, up until this flight, I’d always had bad luck flying. But after I gave up my seat, my flying luck changed. It’s been nothing but smooth sailing since. Even the rough flights turn out great. And it was all thanks to Mr. Tall Man and an aisle seat.
If we were having coffee, what would you tell me about your luck flying?