After I consulted my boarding pass in the gate area of SJC, I had the feeling that something ill-fated was about to happen. Upon arrival at my designated seat assignment, my worst nightmare was confirmed. Yep, I was sandwiched between a fat guy and his pre-teen. Billy, we’ll call him, had the window while his well fed father rode the aisle, his seat, and a little bit of mine. Slightly annoyed, but still coming down from the high of realizing that I was about to move to California, I decided to make the best of a bad situation….
Being stuck in the middle is no cup of tea. Anyone can attest to this, especially if you are of the taller variety and require the use of legs/knees akimbo to sit with low dosages of comfort. At any rate, the real question is… Who gets the middle armrests? Is it first come, first serve? Fuck that. Does seniority rule? Oh, you forgot your Union card, how sad? Should the larger individual get them? I think not. The point I’m trying to make is that the man or woman in the middle of a 3-seat configuration gets dibs. The window seat has its scenic advantages and the aisle has lavatory privileges as well as quick access to the EXIT row in case of an emergency. On the contrary, the middle seat has zip, zilch, nada. That is unless it is universally understood that the armrests are his. I guess the only other advantage of being in the middle is that you have your choice of who to lean on when taking a nap. However, this advantage is negated as the window or aisle seat occupants may both choose to lean on you simultaneously.
Another thing I’ve noticed recently is that old people and grossly overweight people appear to be ordering an inordinate amount of free beverages from the flight attendants. The old people probably feel cheated by not being given FREE snacks along with their fizzy sodas, coffees, and V8. And the overweight people feel that their caloric intake is being cheated. I feel cheated by that too, but I don’t make up for it by ordering a decaf coffee with sugar, an orange juice, a cup of water, and a diet pepsi, uh… can I just get the can?… Ridiculous! All this drinking just creates problems for Aisle and Middle Management because more often than not Granny with the pea sized bladder is rolling deep by the window and has a hard time holding it.
Don’t get me wrong, I love to fly. The thing that keeps me going is the hope that one day I will get the chance to sit next to a smokin’ hottie who isn’t sitting across the aisle from her boyfriend. Hasn’t happened in the 12 years since I started caring about that sort of thing, but any day now, I can just feel it.
So if you find yourself in the middle seat of a 3-seat configuration, feel free to prop those bony joints up and out and take advantage of a bad situation. If you find yourself on either side of the middle seat, have some love and respect for your fellow flight brother. You never know when you’ll be STUCK IN THE MIDDLE. And remember… What goes around comes around… – J.T.