I can’t say that I am a good seatmate when flying on a commercial jet. I wish I could say that I’m a great travel companion or that I‘m a “fun” stranger to sit by on a plane, but I know beyond any shadow of doubt that I am too much of an idiot for that to ever be thought by any of the hundreds of people who have drawn the short straw when booking their flight, landing them the seat next to me.
I typically plan to arrive at the airport with just the right amount of time to get through the ever increasing line for check-in and security, and to grab a beverage before boarding the plane. Let’s back up to the entire check-in process. Now that airline check-in is automated so you can check yourself in - I kind of like it. I can try and sneak in an upgrade for $50. $50 isn’t much, because I have already paid for my ticket. So, I can talk myself into the idea that it only costs fifty bucks to fly to Phoenix or San Diego. This excitement is usually short lived because I get pissed when I punch in to see if an upgrade is available. Because I bought my ticket on some cheap ass website, the monitor flashes a message: “A First Class Upgrade is not available with your itinerary. “ What that really means is: while we want your business, we are disappointed that you were a tight-ass and bought a seat from us through a cheap website. So, therefore, we are going to withhold the opportunity for you to fly first class. You will be in the back of the bus, in coach, with the other cheap asses. If you hadn’t already reserved an aisle seat online, we would be putting you in a middle seat too. Maybe next time you will buy direct from the airline, you cheap bastard. Thanks for flying the friendly skies.
I almost always have enough time to sit in the gate waiting area and sum up the other travelers. I always try to pick out the perfect seatmate for my flight. I like to select people who are not too attractive. As an unattractive person, it helps me feel better to know that I will sit with someone who is equally unattractive, if not even worse looking than I am. Don’t ask why. I am inferior to a lot of people. Beauty in women and men scares me. I fully acknowledge that I feed into the falsity that beautiful people have more rights, are better people, can do more, have more and are more desirable. All of this I deduce from my desire to sit next to unattractive people on an airplane. You see, when I sit next to a hot woman or an attractive man I can’t help but think they are superior. I want to be sure they are comfortable, so I don’t use the arm rest letting them have it all to themselves. I make sure I put my bag in the overhead compartment so that they can have as much leg room as possible. I always greet them with a smile when they swoop down the aisle and motion to me with that “I’m in the middle seat” look so that I know to get up (I always try to get an aisle. It works better for me in case I have to go to the bathroom. I don’t want to have to inconvenience an attractive person to let me out so I can go pee). When the flight attendants start serving beverages I always let the attractive seatmates order first. I make sure to pass their drinks over to them and I am “Johnny on the Spot” when it is time to collect the service items. I always pick up their cups, napkins, etc. and hold them on my tray table so they can get back to reading or working or napping in comfort. I then deposit all of their garbage in the refuse bags that the flight attendants drag down the aisle.
So, you see, when you sit next to an equally unattractive person, or better yet, someone who is uglier than you are, you don’t have to be as nice. So, it just works out better for me. After all, if I am not for myself, who am I for?
I am bad as a seatmate because I spend the entire flight thinking, “I hope the person next to me is nice and wants to chat and is funny, but not too funny so that I feel inferior.” Minutes tick by and I haven’t said anything to them. They haven’t really said anything to me either, aside from the sign language signal that they made when they boarded to let me know they were in my row.
Usually by now the flight attendants are banging the overhead compartments shut and urging folks to sit down so we can push back from the gate. Why do we need a push back from the gate anyway? These airplanes fly five-hundred miles an hour. Don’t they have enough power to go in reverse a total of 300 feet?
So, as you see, the entire flight I don’t say anything. I try to make sure I don’t put myself in a position to have to talk to anyone, but secretly I wish that someone would be so enthralled with me, just because I am there, that they would chat with me and tell me nice things about myself. Maybe they could compliment me on something. I don’t really have anything about me that is compliment worthy, but if I did, it would be fun. I wonder how many of my seatmates have deplaned and said to whomever picked them up at the airport, “You should have seen the nut case I sat next to on the plane. He is the tall ugly guy over there waiting for his bag. See him? He is the one with the really dumb look on his face.” They point in my direction, but I don’t notice because I am too pissed at all the people who slide in front of me at the carousel trying to be the first one to get their bag from the flight so they can get to the cab stand and then home first! They continue, “He wouldn’t say anything, but he nearly ordered my drinks for me, was quick to put my tray table up and collect my cup and napkin. Then he held onto them for thirty minutes until the flight attendants picked them up. Weird!” All of this goes on while I am saying to whomever is picking me up, “You should see the nut I sat next to. They were one of those people who are pretty attractive. If you look over by the Thrifty rental counter you can see her. She is in the blue dress. She thinks she is so hot. I refuse to make beautiful people feel superior by looking at her for too long. I don’t want her to know how beautiful she is!”
One last thing about flying: if you are a mouth breather, PLEASE chew gum or suck on a breath mint. There is nothing worse than sitting next to someone who is overweight, has bad breath and breathes through their mouth while their left leg is slammed up against yours because they don’t fit in the middle seat.
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