As someone who’s had similar experiences on airplanes, I couldn’t help but share a story I read this week. To read the full post, just click the link in the snippet below to make the jump.
On a crack-of-dawn flight from New York City to Seattle recently, I had my first ever, um,altercation with a seat mate. I’d almost missed the plane—I was that person staggering on board just before the doors closed—and I’m sure he thought he was going to have the row all to himself. I flashed him an apologetic smile (I know that aeronautical heartbreak too well!) and pointed to the middle seat. “Hey, sorry, I’m over there.” He looked at my body, sort of glared blankly at my hips, but didn’t respond or make eye contact with me. Then, as I went to put my bag in the overhead bin, I heard him mutter something sour.
“[Something something] say excuse me.”
My adrenaline went bonkers. Was someone being a dick to me? In person? At 7 am? In an enclosed space? For no reason? When I have a hangover? And we’re about to be stuck next to each other for the next five hours? [...]
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