Never book the middle seat

Okay. Maybe the size of the middle seat on an airplane is the same as the window or aisle seat when you look at the spec sheets. In reality, the moment you ask the passenger in the aisle seat to let you in, it starts to shrink.

There is the smirk on the face of the person by the window. The tripping over the suitcase of the man on the aisle, which does not really fit under the seat in front of him. And finally, the plopping down into the middle seat, landing on a spiderweb of seatbelts belonging to everyone, trying to work out which one is yours and which are theirs, all the while groping under your own bum without touching theirs.

By then, the seat has shrunk, along with your ego, to the size of a pin.

Photo by szm 4 on Unsplash