I recently flew from New York to Denver. I had a middle seat on a packed flight in the very back row. In that seat, there is no reclining. Those two little inches don’t seem like much unless you’re dead tired. All I could think of was how comfortable everyone else looked, and how much I missed those glorious two inches!
I was fidgeting, moaning, and shifting in my seat like someone craving a fix! The flight attendant joked with me, “Would you like a beverage…or rehab?!” I didn’t really see the humor in it, being miserable & all.
After 3 1/2 hours of my head bobbing around, and nearly giving my seatmates a black eye, we landed in Denver.
I went to help a woman get her bag down from the overhead bin, and two other bags came flying out with it and crashed down to the floor…but not before falling on a nine-year-old boy who was still sitting in his seat. The poor kid was trying so hard not to cry. Everyone was cursing under their breaths at me while I fumbled with the dumped carry-on luggage. I apologized profusely, but everyone still hated me. It was not my proudest moment.
I fly from Denver to LA in two days…pray you’re not on that flight!
