L U N A T A L K with Eva Moon

Squeeze Play

August 31, 2008 on 1:07 pm | In General Musing, Travel |

I have a great deal of sympathy for travelers of size. Dave Quick, the guitar player in my band, is 6′4″ and I don’t know how he manages to fold his legs into the puny soup can that constitutes a coach seat. So I understand WHY people feel compelled to tilt their seats back: for some it’s the only way to pry their knees out of their larynxes. But it doesn’t make it any harder to bear for the tiltee. I do have one heartfelt plea, however:

Don’t do it. But if you have to tilt your seat back, warn the person behind you!

One of Dave’s friends actually lost a laptop to a sudden tilt back that trapped the lid between the tray table and the latch and cracked the screen. Please, friends, it only takes a second.

I don’t expect this plea to work. No one wants to gaze into their victim’s despairing eyes. It’s easier to just pretend the seat behind you is occupied by a sleeping munchkin. Suck it up. Don’t assuage your conscience pretending this is a victimless crime.

The man in front of me on a four and a half hour flight from Detroit to Seattle last night was not tall or even particularly fat. But he was massive. He rumbled down the aisle like a Subzero refrigerator in denim. When he sat, the seat creaked and expanded. The seat back shuddered and bent. I wondered if anyone had ever been decapitated by an exploding tray table.

But worse was yet to come. As soon we were airborne, he cranked it back. I was expecting that. Not happy, but resigned. What I wasn’t expecting was the casual toss of his hands over the top of the seat back. I suppose that’s how he lounges in his Barcalounger at home. But on a plane? Four and a half hours of shrinking confinement with meaty paws dangling in your face can mess with your mind. At one point I was seized with a sudden perverse urge to lick his fingers. I should have done it. It probably would have cured him of hand-dangling forever.

For the record, I never lean my seat back.

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