Hippy Dippy

With 3 flights, 3 airlines and 4 airports in 7 days, and NO TRAVEL DELAYS, I know I have absolutely no right to complain.

But I must.

Flying from Chicago Midway to Atlanta on the 23rd, I was on an Airtran flight, and had booked the aisle when I checked in 24 hours in advance like the good little traveler that I am. I boarded the plane, with my group, and make my way back to my seat, only to see that a woman is occupying it. Fully.

I say, in that nice casual but borderline annoyed voice, "I think you're in my seat." And she says, while nodding at the middle seat, "would you mind sitting in the middle?"

I paused. The polite southerner in me wanted to say that of course I would, that it would be no problem, that I wouldn't mind at all.

I didn't.

With a controlled politeness, I said, "Well, actually, I'm very tall and would prefer the aisle." (THAT I BOOKED, LADY.) She harumphs, and says, "Okay then, you're going to have to deal with these hips."

I look down.

She has the BIGGEST HIPS I'VE EVER SEEN.

They blossomed out from under her rather large chest. Buffooned out from each side, stretching out at least 12 inches to and fro. I know, I'm a terrible person, but she brought it up.

I said, "Okay." and sat down. In the aisle seat, as planned.

Here's the breaking point. My big mistake. Huge.

I didn't put down the arm rest.

For everyone that has ever boarded a plane, and all those that will travel in the future, this is your warning. Your note to self.

Put down the arm rest.

If I had done it after the fact, it would have bruised her, I'm convinced. So, I spared her that pain and left it up. All this meant for me was that she was more than 1/3 of the way into my seat with those hips. Her body heat and mine combined to create a friction that warmed the entire back half of the plane. For more than 2 hours.

With my 6' self contorted to avoid the sheer suction effect of sharing that much body with another woman, I was practically curved into an "S" the whole trip. I am not sure I am still back to normal.

You'd think that I'd have learned my lesson, and would have boarded earlier, more aggressively, and more attuned to the passengers around me from then on.

I guess not.

I boarded a plane on the 27th for St. Louis, a little American Airlines express flight, and found myself in the window seat on a 2-person row on a tiny little jet.

In the process of sitting, rearranging, and stowing my carry-on fully beneath the seat in front of me, I make the same grave mistake.

No arm rest down-putting. Big mistake. Huge.

Then I see her.

She is young, pausing, looking at me, and I immediately know she's going to be in my aisle. She, too, has the biggest hips I've seen (okay, since the first flight, but still).

I pity her immediately because she's red-faced, sweating, and young. Like 17. She sits down, and then I realize my tragic error.

Again, it is too late.

We, too, shared body heat and personal space the entire way from Atlanta to St. Louis. By the time we got there, I was quite familiar with her body odor. Her scent, if you will.

Merry Christmas to me.