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I recently had a trip from LGA to IAH. No upgrade, but an aisle seat in Premium Economy. Flight app said the plane has loads of empty seats just four hours ago, so fingers crossed.
Getting near the end of boarding and the plane is filling up. Still an empty middle seat between me and the guy in the window on my row.
On walks this woman who’s wearing her best homeless beach attire, complete with neck tattoo. It wouldn’t surprise me if the ink spelled “PWT” in gothic letters, but I didn’t want to look. It’s December. One can only assume she’s headed to Mexico via Houston. That’s what I assumed, at least. She had the look of someone that went on Spring Break twenty years ago and forgot to come back. Please make your way to 29E.
Not today. She points to the middle seat and I get up to make way. As she’s squeezing into the row, she asks if I can change seats with her husband who’s sitting in the middle seat a few aisles up.
Me: “Sorry, no.”
As we’re getting seated, I notice that her similarly-neck-tattoo’d husband is coming back to our row. He has a drooling baby slung under his arm. The mind races. I’d not seen the baby. No one told there was a baby. Did other’s see the baby? I look like the biggest D-bag right now.
He tosses her the baby which she straddles over our arm rest as she messes about with her luggage under the seat in front of her. I can feel all eyes within 3 rows either side are watching the situation unfold. Decision time.
Me: “Actually, I’ll switch with your husband”
Lady one row back whispers aloud: “That’s so nice of him.”
Flight attendant thanks me and brings me a drink.
3 hours later, deplaning: Guy in the window seat of my original row looks exhausted and broken. He catches my gaze as I reach for my bag and says clearly “You made the right call.”
And we both knew that what he meant was that getting away from that woman and her child was absolutely the right call, and he’s sorry that I beat him to the middle seat.
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