In years past, a tap on the shoulder was generally a bid for attention, or a quiet surprise from an old friend meeting you by surprise in an unexpected place. It was usually a pleasant moment.
That all changed when I boarded an airplane in Dallas. The man in the window seat tapped me to lift the arm, separating the seats so he could reach his seat belt. I complied, my mind was not on the seating, rather I was making an emergency flight to meet my husband who had just had a heart attack while in California. Contemplating his situation and still considering scheduled work commitments, I did not realize the man had neglected to put the dividing armrest back in place.
Another gentleman, the size of a linebacker, came to sit in the aisle seat. We three greeted one another with nothing more than a nod and were soon making our way to the runway.
The air vent was not relieving the heat, but there was hope that once airborne things would cool off. I stretched my neck to look about to see if there were any visible empty seats. I could not see any. The man in the window seat was perspiring heavily, and I tried to lean closer to the linebacker. With a questioning glance, the linebacker started to say something, then with just a facial acknowledgment, he leaned further to his aisle side, and I moved in the same direction.
Window man soon began to breathe heavily, his thigh now hot and damp pushing against my thigh. I tapped him on the shoulder as he leaned with a gurgling snore, his head soon upon my shoulder. I pushed, I heaved, and he did not awaken. The linebacker tried to give me a bit more room, and now with a sweaty head on my shoulder, a clammy thigh pressing my leg, and the armrest completely engulfed in pounds of sweaty rolling flesh, I buzzed the cabin crew.
She and the linebacker could easily see my dilemma as she apologetically said, “I’m so sorry, there are no empty seats.”
In slimy discomfort, unpleasant air and odors, and the urgency to get to my husband, tears, and anger were vying for first place. Tons of things literally weighed upon my body and mind. Damnit! If someone is larger than his seat, he should buy two tickets…and…and…and!
Then, caving into the situation, I managed to get out of the pity party and began to wonder how he ever got into such a condition, and how deep were his hurts, pains, difficulties? Yet, even reaching that place, accepting such exasperating conditions, is unacceptable. The airlines must do better. A small person deserves a full seat, regardless of the ever-enlarging size of the many. Without insult or request, each passenger pays for a full seat. When a person is larger than the traditional seat, there should be an oversized area, or a requirement to pay for two seats. No one should have to endure the heat, sweat, and weight of a stranger.
Lesson learned! Avoid the middle seat. Keep the armrest in place.
M. Chandler McLay © August 29, 2019