The Middle Seat

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Outline: Things that go wrong if you're trapped in the middle seat when flying economy.

Flying is something I don't enjoy very much. It's not the fear of being in a metal tube tens of thousands of feet up in the sky; it's the hussle at the airports and the discomfort of being made to squeeze between people in the narrow seats in economy class.

I can't forget my last flight after a week in France, when I was hoping for a peaceful flight home. Usual routine, last minute rush to the airport with the cab driver fighting through the Friday night commuter traffic. Would I make the flight? Hopefully. At last,  we reached  Charles De Gaulle Terminal 1.  ‘I’ve got 15 minutes before they give my seat to the standbys who are circling like vultures,’ I thought. I paid the taxi and rushed towards the check in.

The girl at the counter was all flustered checking-in the last passengers, and arguing with those waiting on standby.

“Yes sir, I appreciate that you have a Privilege Card but there are no standby seats yet,” she said to an irate customer who had no reservation.

A voice over the PA system started giving news of the flight: “Late Air Ways regret to announce a delay of thirty minutes in the departure of flight LA 123."

“Oh, no! Last time they announced a thirty minute delay we were still here three hours later” someone said. Looks like I’ve made it. I got my ticket and passport out and moved up through the waiting crowd. I didn’t bother to ask for an aisle seat - hardly likely to get one by now.

“25B is the best I can do sir” the girl said.

Never mind, I may be lucky and get a small lady next to me, I thought wistfully. It didn’t take long before we were called to board. I got to my seat early, and after putting my bag up in the luggage compartment, I placed all my newspapers and mags into the pocket behind the seat in front,  and sat down waiting. I was watching those coming, trying to guess who‘ll stop at row 25. I kept my fingers crossed but I saw the best prospects just go by. I couldn’t relax yet.

‘The big guys always leave it to the end’ I thought as I  half closed my eyes.  I believe in positive thinking, and I had read somewhere that if you concentrated on something you wanted badly, you could make it come true. Power of the mind. My mind drifted back to the time when a pretty girl was sitting next to me. The plane hit an air pocket and she grabbed my hand squeezing it hard… No such luck this time though. Perhaps I hadn't concentrated hard enough. Just then I saw a big man approach. ‘Yes, it’ll be him, he’s sweating.’  I got up to let him in. Close behind, was another guy. ‘This one is even bigger. He deserves an aisle seat.’

Now I was no longer concerned with the people passing. I had drawn a very short straw, and I just had to come to terms with it. Another positive thought went through my head.  ‘We’ll have no delay and the flight is a short one! Best to secure some elbow room with the arm rests on both sides of me.’
The first guy by the window took off his shoes and pushed them to my side, as he placed his case under the seat. I in turn, put my elbows on the arm-rest and  tried to open my newspaper, carefully folding the pages so as not to disturb my neighbours.

Just then the announcement came over the speaker. “Ladies and gentlemen, just make yourselves comfortable, we’ll be leaving as soon as the tower gives us permission to taxi.”  The captain did his PR. "We’ll be flying at 30000 feet at a speed of 500 mph and we should arrive at Heathrow 20 minutes late, that is assuming that they’ll not keep us circling waiting in the queue to land. The weather is fine with a light south-westerly wind helping us along.”

We were lucky, we were given permission to go, and the plane taxied out to the take-off point. Another short wait and then the mighty roar of the engines, as the plane lurched forward released from its tethers  as if it was  in some sort of race. You could feel the wheels rolling down the run way. What a racket! as if they were solid and there was no suspension. Maybe the surface tarmac needed repair. Then the magic feel, the relief that we were released as if a rope had snapped and we were free to float up. We had lift-off! Lights flashed and quickly disappeared and then came the rumble of the wheels being pulled into the under-carriage compartment.

I couldn’t help feeling the excitement of the take off. It happened every time. It was a wonder how the engines could lift such a huge load off the ground. Now, as soon as the plane reached  cruising height, everything was quiet again and the warning light went out. A number of people got up to go to the toilets. Just as well I didn't have to go - I was wedged in the middle  and it would have been a real need before I’d ask the man on my left to rise and let me out.

Soon the food came and with it followed the coffee. I didn’t like fish so I just nibbled the cheese and biscuits. The guy by the window was now tacking into his food so fast you’d think he hadn’t eaten for days. He looked at me, hoping, I think, that I should offer him my main course as well.

My neighbour on the left decided to relax by undoing the top of his trousers to take the pressure off his huge belly, and his zip opened all by itself. He quickly covered up using the napkin, and was further protected by the table. As the hostess went by, he asked for more coffee. The girl tried to pour it in, but the plastic cup slipped out of his hand and, "oh my goodness", the liquid flew all over, with some spilling over to me as well. I didn’t have the nerve to ask if it burned his leg or anything. Then the stewardess spoke soothingly, “I am very sorry sir, I hope that you are all right. Here, let me help” she said as she took some napkins and tried to wipe the liquid from his clothes. "No, no, never mind its not a problem he said as he put his hand out to take the napkins himself, then he turned and looked to me. I just feigned sympathy. "These things happen” I said trying to appear understanding.

Now it was the turn of the guy by the window. ‘Oh no, he can’t,’ I said to myself. He turned his head and raised his eyes looking at me apologetically.

“Can you let me out please”. Probably had no time to go before boarding, or maybe it was the coffee I speculated. The real problem though was the tray. The stewardess was busy serving. She couldn’t take the trays. “Never mind I can wait a while” he said to my relief but not his. Finally the trays were collected and not before time, as we rose to let him out. I had to admit that I felt a little sorry for him holding on, every passing moment being more and more difficult as he squeezed, hoping that he could manage it. He nearly lost it, just as the bottom seemed to fall of as we hit an air pocket. Fear must have stopped him squeezing, and he became red in the face due to a mixture of fear and embarrassment. Luckily the plane settled again at which point we rose to let the unfortunate man out.

By the time we landed, I was exhausted, and this was in no small part due to the middle seat. Still, I had the whole weekend to recover. TGIF