The Not So Freindly Skies!

Flying the Not so Friendly Skies…

Preface: You will have to forgive me for any forgotten facts or slight exaggerations because it has been about a month since this event occurred, and I’m trying to re-experience some suppressed memories. Some weights, descriptions, and measurements might be slightly off.

In my recent trip to Washington and back, I had some unexpected flight arrangements that made the trip that much more interesting. My flight out of Tulsa to Washington was supposed to fly out about 4:50 pm, on Friday the 25th of July. At about 2:45 p.m on the 25th, I received an automated phone message telling me my flight was cancelled. I was re-booked for the following morning at 6 AM … this meant I had to cash in a friend favor and ask someone to get up around 3 AM on a Saturday to take me to the airport! (Thanks Friend)

I always pick aisle seats and, when I have the option, Emergency Exits, but when your flight gets cancelled, they just seat you where ever. In this case, I was in a non-emergency window seat on the flight to Chicago, and then I changed planes and caught the flight to Seattle. Again, a non-emergency window seat!

I got settled in. There was a lady in the aisle seat, and the middle seat was still open a few minutes before take off … (Not a good sign). Then I looked up and time stood still. See, I’m a bigger fellow myself; probably one of the 3 biggest guys on the plane, but walking down the aisle was numero uno! He was walking down the aisle in the standard 45 degree side straddle slide, hunching below exit signs every few paces, (A technique mastered by all men over 6’2” tall). Then our eyes met and I, at once, realized he was the one I’d been waiting for …The man that would share my personal space for the next few hours. We both shook our heads and murmurred inaudible sounds to show our gratitude for being put in such amazing circumstances, no doubt prayers for patience and thanksgiving.

In order to properly appreciate the situation, one has to know what airplanes seats look and feel (fit) like from the perspective of someone that is 6’4”. When your seat is in the upright and ready for take off position, the distance between it and the seat in front of it is about 3” shorter than your femur. If the person leans their chair back (as they always do), your clearance becomes even less, and you get to look forward to reading the printed instructions off the barf bag etched into your kneecaps and written backwards during the layover and the next airport. There is an adjustable arm that comes down about the size of a 2 x 4 that is built in for multiple purposes. It controls the tilting of the seat, the volume of the radio -- it’s a protector of man space -- and, because there is so little room, it most effectively keeps you from spreading your legs in an attempt to allow blood to again flow to your lower extremities. In the window seat, the curvature of the plane is designed to ergonomically violate shoulder and headroom, so that by the time the flight is over and for the rest of your vacation, you will be able to look over your left shoulder, but your neck won’t turn to the right. Mr. Gibraltar takes his place in the seat next to me and thus begins the search for my happy place. 75% of my personal space is now being defiled. The 2 x 4 armrest is all that is separating me from spooning with this stranger. My restricted air space above and below the armrest has been breached and there are no fallback positions to regroup. The next 4 hours are spent in a somber state listening to the melody of heart murmurs and discovering the sounds made by a digesting quarter pounder with cheese. Oh the memories … how bad of a boy I must have been for this state of penitence.

There are some benefits of being bonded to a complete stranger for that amount of time. Even though half your body’s blood flow has been cut off, you don’t get cold. (Thank you reciprocating body heat!) Long trips in dry stagnate air can often lead to chapped lips, but you need not worry when in a symbiotic relationship such as this, because, from personal experience, deodorant will prevent this from happening. Finally, there is comfort in knowing that, if the plane does happen to crash, your time in this condition is that much shorter.

What have I learned from my stints across the country on airlines? Three things: prop-jets aren’t that bad, anorexia can be my friend, and there are justifiable cases where euthanasia is an act of mercy. While prop-jets have less room than typical jets, most of them are relics of the First World War, and every time you hit a bump you expect a flight attendant to bust out some duct tape to resolve an in flight issue…they however will say those magic little words that make my heart flutter. “Gentlemen we need to separate you to redistribute the weight.” (Which translates to: I don’t have to sit next to a Big Guy)!

And can you think of anything sexier than a knee-knocking, walking skeleton ... someone who is a tic-tac away from a full stomach ... taking the seat next to you on a flight? I Can’t! Who knows, they may even offer you their peanuts.

And the next time you fly, and get up to go to the restroom, and you see two big guys barely breathing and their eyes glazed over … if they happen to look at you and smile … it is probably because they are delusional and think you are a terrorist bringing a timely stop to this injustice.

And so went the first part of my trip…

JPH