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The People in Coach

By August 3, 2015April 20th, 2017Short Stories, Travel + Culture

The People in Coach-Flying-Economy-Class

As if you couldn’t tell where this post is going by the title, it’s a rant and a pretty damn good one too.

Why is flying economy class so freckin’ dreadful?

Everything from boarding, off loading, the overhead compartments, walking down the aisle, putting on the seat belt, the food, and most of all the cranky people, all dreadful.

Why?

Why?

Why?

I vow to never do this again. I vow not to torture myself with the cramped seating, the weirdos, and the little trays of chow.

Never again will I do this!

I mean never!

My last flight was just last week and there I was in economy class, coach for you old-school people. I walked down a seemingly endless aisle to seat 26A. As soon as I arrived, I knew it would be trouble. The odd old fellow in 25A had already reclined his seat as if he was prepared for an on-flight massage. I didn’t know seats could recline so far and furthermore, why in the hell was he reclined already. There are rules for that, he didn’t care and neither did the flight attendants when I brought it to their attention.

So, I asked to move as there were a few available seats in the back and a family of 3 wanted to sit together so this seemed like a win.

Score…

No..

Foul!

Economy-Class-Airplanes

 

Score for the sister/mom trio who got to sit together and foul for me. You see, I took  28F, the seat of one of the sisters.

Initially, no problem; window seat, no middle passenger, all was well.

That was until I arrived to the row to take my new seat. You see, Haglisha, the pictured ham, decided that she (though she changed her seat) could have the row to herself and told me I couldn’t sit there. So, I paused and gave her the side-eye of all side-eyes and said, “Excuse me”. She replied, “No, get in YOUR seat, your can’t sit here”. With my new found patience that unveiled itself in Zanzibar, I simply made eye contact with the flight attendant, she gave nod, so I said, “excuse me”.

Haglisha and all her wrinkles didn’t budge. In fact, she position herself in a way that would prevent a normal sized person from getting in the seat.

No problem; Hakuna Matata.

In all of my 5’10 glory, I stepped right over her to 28F.

Haglisha was pissed.

As I tried to settle into my new digs, because it was time for take off, Haglisha asserted herself into the business of 28F.

Oh chile…

Oh ma’am

Ummm….

How do you think it ended?

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