I am writing this to you from the second seat in the Economy Plus section, which, as one of the 20 rotating Verizon screens in front of me insists, provides me with up to 5 inches more leg room, like I need more leg room. Unfortunately, there is no extra ass room. Stupid airplane designers.

I am also writing this in the face of several challenges. First of all, I decided yesterday that I should get my nails put back on. They are lovely. But they make typing more than difficult, especially since I am not yet used to them.

Worse, the seat in front of me is in the "seat-back" position, that oh-so dangerous position during take off and landing. It doesn't matter how much "extra leg room" I have, this has taken up my lap room. This now puts my laptop not so much in my lap as against my chin.

I didn't start out in the Economy plus section. MOTH advised me to try and get a seat on the wing, being the safest place and all, which then explains why I was assigned a seat in the absolute very last row of the plane. I don't know why they split us up to begin with. We got to the airport in plenty of time to wait. That IS the name of the game, right? They gave Ally a window seat several aisles up, perhaps even on the wing, but not me, alone in the back, with not even an overhead compartment available for the carryon I was assured I could have. No one was sitting in the three seats in front of me either. I was assigned the aisle seat of the last row, but throwing caution to the wind, I planted myself right up against that window. Dammit! It's the least they could give me. I wasn't alone long before a plucky 13 year old sat down next to me, all out of breath, and sure I wanted to hear all abut her life.

Ohmygoshididn'tthinkiwasgoingtomakeitandwhydoialwaysgettheseatallthewayintheback? (breath)
Mymomisinthefifthrowandiwonderificansitbyherbecauseshedoesn'tspeakanyEnglish (breath)
andohmygoditissohotinthisplaneitwassocoldonmylastflightfromHongKongwelefttherethismorningand
itwasfreezingwhenwewereovertheocean (breath)
andohmygodialwaysgetthisrashwhenigotoVietnamcanyouseeitonmylegsit'ssoitchy! (breath)

I was so much more than willing to swap seats...her Vietnamese "rash" was enough to make me run up the aisle. Which reminds me, WHO the hell designed the aisles in a jet plane and who the hell can actually walk down them without ricocheting all the way and that's even if you aren't carrying any luggage, which of course we all are.

Anyway, sitting here in the Economy plus section has had its own moments of discomfort. Like when the window seat guy kept cursing with every drop of sweat that rolled down his face (when we left Chicago it was 106 degrees and 400% humidity). He kept muttering about how ridiculous it was that it was so hot in the plane and while indeed it was, it was just slightly worrisome that he was worked up over it. Hell, I tried to turn on the air nipple above my head, but I couldn't reach the motherfucker so I just sat in my own sweat pool and tried not to piss him off any more than he was and he's finally snoring at me. Super Duper.

Ok, well the announcement has been made that I have to wrap this up and power down, and Mr. NoSpine in front of me will have to return his seat to the upright position. We wouldn't want to be responsible for a crash landing. Not that I'd know what to do in the event of such a thing happening as flight attendants these days take no pride in their emergency procedure demonstrations. Honestly, they don't even try.

---

Won't you PLEASE leave your feedback here?
0 readers left their mark on this one!

TagBoard

Name URL or Email Messages(smilies) Read the previous entry - Read the next entry Who's Who in Ibe's Diary (last UPDATED September 21, 2008) If you would like to be notifed each time this page is updated, stick your email addy in the form and click on "join." Your email address: