My Uncivilized Airline Trip
I’m really down on airline travel. I realize that it’s the only way to get to Scandinavia for a long weekend, but I miss the good old days.
I remember when Bob and I went on our honeymoon, air travel was still an “event.” Preparation included getting a new piece of Samsonite luggage and dressing up for the trip. In fact, for our honeymoon, I distinctly recall Wearing a two-piece skirt and top, a sensible heel and carrying on board a “make-up” carry-on case. I fondly remember easily storing all our travel items and having no trouble crossing my legs because I had so much leg room. There was no hauling a 22 inch suitcase into the cabin bin above so as not to get charged for luggage.
While I know those days are gone I remained hopeful for this trip because I was taking Scandinavian Airlines. I had never flown this fleet before but figured that citizens from these countries are rated the happiest people in the world and so comfort must mean something to them. I got in the plane, looked to the left and longingly saw the seats in business class. I looked to the right and was thrilled to see big, comfortable seats with thick blankets! I couldn’t have been happier!
The problem was that in my excitement over the seat size, I didn’t look at the seat numbers. The comfortable seat was in row 18. Unfortunately, I was back in row 51. As I walked slowly, dragging my 22 inch sized suitcase behind me, preparing for its big lift above my seat, I realized that I was in what I like to call the “Calcutta” section of the plane, i.e. the densely populated area.
I got to row 51, and after thinking that they had to be kidding, I thought, “How can these people be happy with such a seat size!?” I vaulted my suitcase into the bin, tried to arrange all my things under the narrow seat in front of me, and then tried to organize the sorry excuse for a pillow, the tissue-thick blanket and my purse on my lap. (I like to keep it close, clearly demonstrating that I have become my mother)
I still did not despair because I remained hopeful that the travelers around me knew and understood “21st Century Airplane Etiquette.” Although no definition comes up when “Googled” my definition means that when on an airplane, you respect the extremely limited space of your fellow travelers. The young man next to me, who was unfortunate enough to have the middle seat, was keenly aware of those rules. Although he appeared to be about 6’ 5-6”, he never moved his legs and kept his elbows close to his side for the eight hour trip. In fact, except for eating an incredible amount of food, he never left his seat. In my constant state of “mother-worry,” I vacillated between worrying that he was going to develop a blood clot for sitting so long and being embarrassed that I had to been to the bathroom three times to his zero.
Sadly, the man in front of me was unfamiliar with this definition. I will admit, he was a big guy. From the back, he looked like a lumberjack without the plaid. As soon as the Captain announced that “We could now roam freely around the cabin,” (I assume he has not been to the Calcutta section of his plane because there is truly nowhere to “roam.”) his seat went back so fast that he was nearly horizontal! Under the 21st Century Etiquette Rules no one is allowed to put their seat back! If you want to be horizontal on a plane, either spring for a business class ticket or figure out a way to go back to 1984 when planes still had leg room!
I immediately sprang into action. I pushed his seat up as hard as I could and yelled, “No!” He turned quickly, and I looked at him and growled, “ No, there is not enough room, no!” I figured that I paid for my four inches, and damn it, I was going to use every one of them!” I never saw a seat go up so fast. For the next eight hours, the non-plaided lumberjack sat straight up and appeared miserable, like the rest of us.
I remember when Bob and I went on our honeymoon, air travel was still an “event.” Preparation included getting a new piece of Samsonite luggage and dressing up for the trip. In fact, for our honeymoon, I distinctly recall Wearing a two-piece skirt and top, a sensible heel and carrying on board a “make-up” carry-on case. I fondly remember easily storing all our travel items and having no trouble crossing my legs because I had so much leg room. There was no hauling a 22 inch suitcase into the cabin bin above so as not to get charged for luggage.
While I know those days are gone I remained hopeful for this trip because I was taking Scandinavian Airlines. I had never flown this fleet before but figured that citizens from these countries are rated the happiest people in the world and so comfort must mean something to them. I got in the plane, looked to the left and longingly saw the seats in business class. I looked to the right and was thrilled to see big, comfortable seats with thick blankets! I couldn’t have been happier!
The problem was that in my excitement over the seat size, I didn’t look at the seat numbers. The comfortable seat was in row 18. Unfortunately, I was back in row 51. As I walked slowly, dragging my 22 inch sized suitcase behind me, preparing for its big lift above my seat, I realized that I was in what I like to call the “Calcutta” section of the plane, i.e. the densely populated area.
I got to row 51, and after thinking that they had to be kidding, I thought, “How can these people be happy with such a seat size!?” I vaulted my suitcase into the bin, tried to arrange all my things under the narrow seat in front of me, and then tried to organize the sorry excuse for a pillow, the tissue-thick blanket and my purse on my lap. (I like to keep it close, clearly demonstrating that I have become my mother)
I still did not despair because I remained hopeful that the travelers around me knew and understood “21st Century Airplane Etiquette.” Although no definition comes up when “Googled” my definition means that when on an airplane, you respect the extremely limited space of your fellow travelers. The young man next to me, who was unfortunate enough to have the middle seat, was keenly aware of those rules. Although he appeared to be about 6’ 5-6”, he never moved his legs and kept his elbows close to his side for the eight hour trip. In fact, except for eating an incredible amount of food, he never left his seat. In my constant state of “mother-worry,” I vacillated between worrying that he was going to develop a blood clot for sitting so long and being embarrassed that I had to been to the bathroom three times to his zero.
Sadly, the man in front of me was unfamiliar with this definition. I will admit, he was a big guy. From the back, he looked like a lumberjack without the plaid. As soon as the Captain announced that “We could now roam freely around the cabin,” (I assume he has not been to the Calcutta section of his plane because there is truly nowhere to “roam.”) his seat went back so fast that he was nearly horizontal! Under the 21st Century Etiquette Rules no one is allowed to put their seat back! If you want to be horizontal on a plane, either spring for a business class ticket or figure out a way to go back to 1984 when planes still had leg room!
I immediately sprang into action. I pushed his seat up as hard as I could and yelled, “No!” He turned quickly, and I looked at him and growled, “ No, there is not enough room, no!” I figured that I paid for my four inches, and damn it, I was going to use every one of them!” I never saw a seat go up so fast. For the next eight hours, the non-plaided lumberjack sat straight up and appeared miserable, like the rest of us.
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