A WINDOW INTO A SEMI-EVENTFUL LIFE IN SEVEN EASY STEPS BY BRIAN POLK | ART BY JASON WHITE I LOST FIVE HOURS OF SLEEP THINKING ABOUT WHAT TO WRITE FOR AN OPENING IN MY COLUMN THIS MONTH, AND I STILL DIDN’T COME UP WITH SHIT As a reader of this here magazine, I hope you’re fucking happy! MY RECENT FLIGHT EXPERIENCE DIDN’T DO MUCH TO IMPROVE MY OPINION OF AIRLINES WITH “OPEN SEATING” POLICIES Ordinarly, I am a tad too anxious to be able to fly across the country without any foreknowledge of where my seat on the airplane is supposed to be. But once I realized that even my friends with severe anxiety can handle it, I decided to give it a shot. Well, on my trip back from New York, I found an aisle seat (huzzah!). Shortly after, another passenger claimed the window. And then for a few sweet, fleeting moments I thought no one would claim the middle. But then this guy No. 120 who barely made it on before they shut the cabin door, walked slowly towards our seat cluster, pointed at me and said, “I will sit here.” Thinking he meant, “I will take the middle,” I began to stand up so he could sit down. “Hurry up out of my seat,” he said as I stood, which confused the hell out of me. Then the flight attendant walked over to him and said, “You have to sit in the middle, sir. That’s his seat.” That’s when I realized when he said he will sit here, he meant the seat I was already fucking sitting in. He thought that “open seating” meant he could sit wherever the hell he damn well pleased. I may have smirked a bit as he grunted and exaggeratedly struggled to where he would sit for the flight. Once he got situated, he stared at me with the anger of a million Karens, which was super fun, because it wasn’t like his mean old face was that far away from me. All I thought was, Tough shit, buddy, and then I put my headphones on and didn’t give it another thought. But the whole ordeal made me realize I sure do miss assigned seating.
7 Publizr Home