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The Middle Seat

September 20, 2011

This weekend I flew to Salt Lake City and got the middle seat. The middle seat sucks, right? Making your way slowly down the aisle like you’re off to the electric chair, you prep for the worst: picturing yourself wedged between an enormous, hairy ogre on one side and a gassy, greasy behemoth on the other.

After takeoff, you sit with your arms folded tightly across your chest, feeling your hands slowly lose bloodflow, and dare not move because the inevitable has happened: your seatmates are both asleep…snoring loudly and splayed out over the tiny bits of armrest you’d been coveting. So you sit there, convincing yourself you can hold your bladder for the next two and a half hours because the guy next to you clearly had an exhausting night at the Danny Zuko lookalike contest.

Why, its Greased Lightning!

The obvious answer is to gently nudge your neighbor and ask politely if you can sneak by in order to attend to your basic human functions. But no one wants to do that because of THE LOOK. You know the look, the one that tells you you’re more of an inconvenience than their incontinent, mangy dog they hoped would die 5 years ago and that you’re more of a nuisance than their deadbeat son who only calls when he needs money and has gifted you with four fugly illegitimate children from three different baby-mamas.

Not pictured: The 9 and 11 year old already in juvie

So you sit there uncomfortably and will the pilot to break all FAA laws and put the pedal to the metal. You sit and thumb through the Sky Mall magazine imagining what lunatic came up with this crap…or more ridiculous, who buys it?

Actually, that's kinda genius

You sit and try to catch some shut-eye yourself to make the flight feel shorter and maybe compete with your log-sawing flankers. You see the trend here? You sit. You sit inside a big hunk of metal traveling 500+ mph, 30K feet up in the air and travel 1600+miles in under four hours. You know who wouldn’t have bitched about the middle seat?

Try that middle seat with dysentery, you 21st century pansy!

I feel lucky to travel like I do. I feel lucky that trips across the country are possible without risking disease or bear attack. I feel lucky to see gorgeous sites all around the world and return home where I know the heat works and the water runs clean. I feel lucky that I found this in the Sky Mall for my next trip sitting beside a sasquatch who smells like he had a damn good time at a Tequila and Taco festival :

What? It's for the "germs" I swear.

I feel lucky to have the middle seat. What unlucky luck are you thankful for?

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One Comment leave one →
  1. September 20, 2011 6:30 pm

    Self-checkouts at the grocery store. No one ever knows how to use them correctly. But at least when I get up there I can barrel right through. Until an item won’t scan and the one person working doesn’t notice my flashing red light for what feels like 5 minutes.

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