Monday, December 13, 2004 · posted at 1:14 AM
Flying the not-so-friendly skies. Traveling Delta always seems to be hit or miss. There's either a smooth flight or vertigo-inducing one. They show a good movie (Elf) or they show a bad movie (Without a Paddle). It's empty enough for all the passengers to have their own row or you're squished up against an overweight 40 year old.

On the way to NY, I had the luxury of three seats (with retractable armrests), three blankets and three pillows all to myself. It was heaven, or at least the makings for a good 4 hour nap.

On the way home, the flight was 60% filled and luckily anachronic and I had seats next to each other (thanks George!). The aisle between initially served as a great buffer to the preservation of personal space... however three mid-conversation near-decapitations later, it seemed wise to perhaps change up the seating arrangements.

Attempt #1. The window seat guy in Jon's row. He looked like an SDSU Samahan member who would be sympathetic to the cause. However when given the opportunity to switch into my lovely aisle seat, he steadfastedly declined claiming an unwavering love for the window seat.

Attempt #2. The window seat girl in my row. The Texan knitter in pigtails. She refused to move but graciously offered that we could fit three to a row.

What's the Ann Landers etiquette on this? Is the window seat that much of a coveted prize? I wanted to say, "You know if one of the engines fall off the plane... it's hitting you first!" but I don't think that would have made a convincing argument.

Perhaps for a motion sick individual, being in the window seat allows them to find their bearings by using visual landmarks such as the horizon. But this was an evening flight (dark outside) and I think they even pulled the shades!

Maybe each enjoyed having a cold metal wall to lean against during naptime? Maybe they liked having to wait for everyone else to exit the plane before being able to grab their luggage? Maybe they liked having to displace others each time they needed to get to the loo? Who knows.

I know in the movie theaters I can get testy at people asking me to move because I specially picked a seat that's not obstructed by a partial view or covered by a sticky floor. Maybe that's how these people felt about their window seats. That sitting in the aisle with the roving elbow-banging beverage cart was a fate worse than any karma incurred for a missed good deed.

In the end, the college kid ended up squished against the window once we piled into his row and the Texan knitter ended up with the platinum blonde head of a brazen New Yorker edging into her lap.

Bet that empty aisle seat looked real good then.

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