The flight from Boston to Dallas is pretty much always over-booked and over-stuffed with passengers. Getting an exit row seat is golden, even if it's a middle seat so when I was given the window seat I didn't make a fuss. Besides, who'd listen? As we were herded in, fumbling about to find our seats and stow our over-sized and overweight bags I quickly made my way to my "comfy" seat right up against the window. I spied those coming on after me, making my own mental selection as to who should have the honor of sitting next to me. Before I could cast a vote an exceptionally LARGE man made his way to my row, tossed a book on the seat next to me and said, "guess that's my seat." Holy crap, are you kidding me? The largest man in the world is going to sit in this seat of all seats?" As these thoughts were racing through my head the guy looked at me, smiled and said, "Bet you were hoping for a skinny blonde." SHIT! Did he just read my mind? Turned out to be a very decent fellow, certainly better than me. In order to make room, I had to curve my shoulders forward, turn and press my body up against the wall of the plane, sort of like a Picasso figure but even doing that didn't keep him from overflowing into my seat and up against my back. Not a problem, I can handle this for a three and a half our flight. Well, as my lower back started to seize up and my hamstrings started to scream, I was pretty much in misery for the last two of hours of the flight. Within minutes of landing I was virtually crawling out of my skin praying for some quick relief, either landing immediately or lawn-darting into mother earth. Eventually we landed and after the brain dead first classers and non-travelers got their bags and departed, I was finally able to unfold my body and feel the blood rushing back into my extremities. The next leg, from Dallas to Denver, was the antithesis of the first. Not nearly as many folks heading to Denver so a seat among the privileged was mine for the taking. At this point I really didn't care who sat next to me, I was just thrilled to actually have a seat where my ass fit in my seat and there was amble room for my spindly legs. But the travel gods must have looked down upon me with great favor because a young, very attractive woman took the seat next to me. Don't worry, I didn't start off with a "how you doin'?" intro nor did I get into the "when I was your age..." spiel. She was just a pretty young lady who actually smelled nice, especially compared to those that row in the galleys, I mean, who sit in coach. We enjoyed some pleasant conversation but for the most part kept to ourselves. Hey, that's all I want. Just let me sit next to someone who doesn't possess the girth of three lumberjacks, who appreciates the importance of personal hygiene and can actually string together several words into an intelligible sentence.
So it was a great way to wrap up a long week on business travel. Sitting in First Class next to a pleasant person, drinking cheap-ass Chardonnay and eating something that would actually provide my body some level of nutrition. Mitty or Bambam, if you boys could make that happen on a regular basis for me, brother you've got my vote.
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