I hate middle seats. HATE them. But the flight home was packed and I figured I could nap for the 5 AM arrival. I reached my seat to find a…very…large woman seated at the window. I stowed my bag, sat down and noticed
both arm rests were up. I then noticed that to put it down, I’d have to somehow sever about 40 pounds of woman, she exuded into 25% of my seat! Now, I like to think I’m a gentleman. I’ve come from an idyllic experience and don’t wanna be churlish or sexist or shit. I want my fucking seat, all of it!. But I say and do nothing. The aisle guy arrives, actually the window seat is HIS, she’s taken it, not wanting to surge into the aisle I guess and he happily switches with he and stays there. WTF? He puts down HIS arm rest, we’re both normal sized…and I ponder. Its not her fault she’s obese (well, maybe not) but the point is, she is all over my space. Oh well. We take, she goes to sleep and ….begins expanding her borders, sort of flowing…and I am talking myself down. Chill Tucker, be cool, its just 5 hours, be a gentleman don’t be size-ist:) Think of beautiful calm places. But in truth, until I finally get up to use the restroom, three hours into the flight, I feel as tho I’m wearing part of her on my right side. Stew, you coulda put a kid in there without any harm. That was hardly fair to me. So it goes. Might wanna think about two seats next time, darlin’.

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