Middle Seat Man

Invariably when you fly, either you or someone else needs to take the middle seat on a plane. No one is happy to either be in the middle seat or have that storage space you use for your coat, computer, magazines, newspapers, and carry-on meal taken away. I've been the "middle seat person" many times. The "end seat" people often show you with their rolling eyes, sighs and dramatic gathering of their "middle seat" possessions that they do not want you in their row. It could be the last seat on the plane and they still hold a grudge when you meekly ask, "is that seat taken?".

I have to admit that I do love the civility of people in a row who have an empty middle seat. You can almost feel like you're in first class. You've got arm space, don't need to share an arm rest, can share the middle seat tray table for your drinks and share the middle seat for your "stuff" and overall, life is good. I sometimes buy a lottery ticket the days I am in a row with an empty middle seat.

There are times when you have no choice but to show a tight lipped smile and admit that your coat didn't buy a ticket for that seat and make room for the "middle seat person". Through experience I have to say that a "middle seat woman" is rarely as irritating as the "middle seat man". A "middle seat woman" often tries to take up as little space a possible, shares the arm rest and keeps their arms and legs to themselves. I can fly with a "middle seat woman". I have been a "middle seat woman".

But when I see a man heading toward my middle seat, I can't help but mutter under my breath "not here, not here, please, I'll start going to church, but not here". That usually doesn't work so I move my possessions from the middle seat and resolve to be a good end seat person. I'll tell them that we can share the middle arm rest - that's really the only thing I can think of that makes me show that I want to make this relationship work.

Some "middle seat men" are fine. They share the arm rest, read a book or sleep the whole trip. But many seem to inflate like the Hulk or a balloon in the Macy's Parade. They sit as if they have a basketball between their legs. My knees are primly together directly under my body and their knees are pushing against my legs. I know they have at least a 4 foot span, knee to knee. What's with that?? Then there is no sharing of the arm rests because they have both and then some. Their elbows are jutting into my ribs and they don't seem to notice. "Middle seat man" feels the need to get out his 17" screen computer so now part of my tray table has become their desk. I don't care if the man is only 5 feet tall; when he get into that middle seat, he becomes 6 foot wide. I really don't get it. Doesn't "middle seat man" realize that there are 2 other people in the row or is he just punishing us because he didn't get an end seat?

I have tried my "let's share the armrest" speech but he looks at me as if I'm speaking a foreign language. To make matters worse, some "middle seat men" have a foot tapping problem. As much as I try, I can't help but notice their leg jack hammering beside me. This is one time when peripheral vision is not an asset. It's almost like Chinese water torture to me. Even when I close my eyes, I can feel the vibration of that leg (maybe it's because it's still jammed against my legs). I can put up with most everything except those leg spasms. I finally have to say something - and when I do, I can tell that I've annoyed them. I get the feeling that they are now in charge of the row. I don't want to annoy them any further by asking if I can get out to use the rest room so I refuse all drinks and think of deserts and camels during the rest of the trip.

When "middle seat man" gets up to leave the plane, he becomes a regular person again. If I point him out, irritatingly to a friend, they look at me in disbelief and question whether I've been using too many of my drink coupons on the flight. They say "you're telling me that frail old man was taking up too much space in his seat"? Then I see frail little "middle seat man" glance back at me with a little smirk. How do they do it??