I’m on a flight right now, headed to Los Angeles for the Pirates of the Caribbean junket. Part of the reason I post stuff on this blog is to for theraputic reasons. So here goes.
For some reason, I wasn’t assigned a seat for this flight, which boggles my mind. Why wouldn’t they give me a seat if its already paid for? Its cool, I guess, it just meant that I couldn’t check in online. When I get to the American Airlines gate, I go to the counter and tell Elizabeth that I don’t have a seat. She tells me no problem, just to have a seat and she’ll call my name. Before I
take my seat, I very politely say ‘Elizabeth, can you please make sure that you do not give me a middle seat?’ She looks up from her glasses and says ‘sure’ from the side of her mouth. I reply ‘Thank you so much, you’ll make my day.’ I’m waiting for a seat. Twenty minutes go by and she calls my name. I go up there and says ‘Well, its not a middle seat!’ Ok, I’m not 100% sure, but I think
she smirked as she said it. I’m in group 2 says the ticket…seat 36D.
Normally, I would think 36D is a good thing, you know, like in bra sizes. This 36D isn’t. This is what 36D will get you on a American Airlines 757: the worst seat on the plane. Seriously. 36D is that seat in the very last row. Its the seat that is right next to the toilets. Its the seat that doesn’t recline. Its the seat that is closest to the galley, or whatever you call it
where the stewardesses hang out talk loudly about their nieces bridal shower and get our drinks together. Its the seat, in today’s example, that comes with, literally, a screaming kid right next to me. ( I won’t complain about the kid, but here’s some advice from one parent to another- when flying with kids give them about 25mg of Melatonin before the flight- its completely safe and they’ll
sleep the whole way.)
Anyway, I’m trying to make the most of it. The captain says to stay seated, there’s some patchy stuff up ahead, if you’re waiting to use the bathroom go back to your seat. Got it? We’ll this lady that’s about 15 rows up stands up and goes to the bathroom. I’m thinking, ‘well the stewardesses will say something’…nope. Who cares. I go back to watchin ‘8 Below’ on the flight. I can’t
see the tv on the ceiling of the fuselage because 35D keeps opening the USA today wide open and high so he can read ‘Snapshot’ at the bottom of the page. I somehow doze off.
Fast forward 30 minutes…the screaming kid is asleep, I’m asleep, there’s the usual heard of people congregated in my area, and there’s the lady at the door yelling, yes literally yelling, to the person (I assume was her child) in the bathroom on how to unlock the door to get out. Of course it wakes me up, and of course it wakes up the formally screaming child next to me and of course the
stewardesses don’t tell her to quiet down. Come to find out, the kid wasn’t even trapped in there. He/She was doing his/her business. The stewardesses tell ‘yelling yellow shirt lady’ to go back to her seat. I know this because I am now fully awake and screaming baby is now crying baby. Mom does her thing and gets the cute kid back to sleep. Me, however, still gets the honor of having
everyone’s asses up my face walk past me on their way to the terlet.
I complain a lot, I know. I am just tired of 36D. I’ve sat here at least 5 times before. I do a lot of last minute traveling but it only seems I get 36D when I’m flying on flights 3 hours or longer.
I hate seat 36D. Total count of people bumping into me – 36.
My View from 36D.
Rock forth, Mitch
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