I'm flying...

Today’s post is brought to you by an interesting Yelp! Chicago talk thread I’ve been watching so far this morning.  The original post details “shrinking legroom” in coach and on some economy airlines, such as Spirit and JetBlue.

I commented that I try not to fly those airlines if I can avoid it, because they nickel and dime you for everything, and the next thing you know, we’ll be charged for a seat that reclines.  Another commented mentioned that reclining should be eliminated all together, because it is an “asshole move.”

Am I in the minority here?  Am I an asshole because I recline my seat on an airplane?  99% of the seats on an airplane recline, save the exit row, which has more legroom.  Personally, I’d rather have less legroom and a seat that reclines.  It isn’t like the person behind you is suffering because you recline.  If they recline, it’s all good.  If you want to be behind a seat that doesn’t recline, choose a bulkhead seat or a seat behind the exit row.  Problem solved.  If they didn’t want you reclining, they wouldn’t have seats that reclined.  It is a “luxury” on planes where they are already trying to cram people in like sardines.  Being crammed in with a couple hundred strangers is uncomfortable enough as it is, with all of their sounds and smells.  Why not recline?

I have a system when I fly, because I don’t fly well.  I’m not afraid to fly, it is just one of the things in life that makes me anxious.  I board when it is my time to do so.  I take my iPod and noise-cancelling headphones out of my carryon and stow the rest.  I sit down, and make sure that there is a puke bag in the seat pocket (this hasn’t happened in years, but, just in case.)  I fasten my seatbelt and prepare my iPod and headphones.  Once the doors close and the plane starts to move, I close my eyes. Once we’re in the air and allowed, I listen to music.  I don’t move.  I don’t talk.  I don’t want to move or talk.  The end.  Sometimes, I’ll be on a flight where they don’t make me take off my headphones for landing, and that’s the best, because that’s when I’m most anxious, and the music is calming.

The first time I flew with my boyfriend, he didn’t believe me when I told him about my system, and how I don’t talk, read, eat, drink, look out the window, or socialize on an airplane.  My sister and mother both tried to warn him as well.  I told him, once we start to move, don’t touch me, don’t talk to me.  It’s nothing personal, it’s just one of my weird things that I need to do my way.  The poor man tried to test this theory.  He kept tapping me to ask me questions.  He wanted me to play cards with him.  He kept trying to show me things out the window.

I almost took his head off.