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Friday Philosophy – The Small Issue of Planes, Trains and…Coaches. October 21, 2015

Posted by mwidlake in Uncategorized.

Today I get on a plane. It is a long flight, 10+ hours, and throughout all of it, some people will hate me. I even expect some Hard Stares. Why? Because I’ll be sitting in a seat with a large space in front of it – and my legs dangling off the front of the seat. Those over 6 foot will be fuming I have that extra leg room. See me sitting there. See me smiling:-) .

King of all I see

King of all I see

Well, I picked that seat for reasons that the tall (and average) do not appreciate. On flights I generally have leg and arm room others may wish they had. It is one of the few, very few, benefits of being small. Relatively speaking I have more space in my allocated seat to place my body parts in comfort. But, unlike most of you, all I see for the whole flight is a wall of seat-back. And I can’t sit straight as my thighs are slightly shorter than the seat base, so I sink even lower with an unsupported back, staring at that seat back. Just that seat back. Nothing but that seat back. Unlike you I can only see ceiling if I tip my head back, I can’t take a long look down the aeroplane above the seats; the angle is too steep. And now the seat back has moved closer to me as the person in front has reclined their seat. On short flights this is a pain, on long flights it might mean the film I was watching, on a screen slightly above my eyeline, is now well above my eyeline and the colours have gone weird. The bottom line is, I spend the whole flight in a box that ends THERE, 14.2 inches in front of my face. The whole flight, in a seat too long for my legs, going slowly batshit due to mild agoraphobia that becomes major after 5 hours. I can sit cross-legged in my seat to solve many of the issues but (a) the flight attendants don’t like it (b) I lose blood supply to my left foot and (c) I start thinking I’m a Ninja. An evil Ninja.

There is another reason I pick such a seat. Looking out the window from time to time helps keep me sane from the Box I am in, so I like to be by the window. But those people in funny costumes, way too much makeup and with the fixed smiles keep offering me these big drinks (big to me) and I soon need a pee. A pint in a half-pint can only lead to one event. Asking 2 or 3 people to let me out every hour soon gets trying for all, so a seat where I can just step front and go find the loo is good.

At least on a plane the person next to me is likely to be normal (or my wife). On normal public transport, they often are not. This next consideration has been an aspect of my life for as long as I have traveled on my own. When I was a student almost no students had their own cars, including me. Which means I often had to get to and from my parental home and college home by public transport. In my case coach (bus, large vehicle driving down roads). I would get on, sit down, watch others file in and fill the classic “I want a double seat to myself so I will spread out my shit” pattern. Until each double seat was full with coats, bags and handbags strategically placed to warn others to sod off. And I knew what was coming. It always did. Normal sized people would generally get on and choose to sit somewhere near the door, forcing someone on their own in a double seat to move their defensive stuff. I always sat towards the back. But then some massive, often fat but sometimes just hulking, person would appear (usually a man) and would look gloomily at all the single spots left. And spot “The Small Guy” way back down there. They would be over to me in a shot – lord knows how quick given how much blubber they had to drag along with them – and into the seat next to me. And then they would Sppprreeeaaaadddd. First the thigh would come over my side, followed by the rest of the leg. And the arm would push up against my am and then over the arm rest (if there was one) and shove me to one side. Soon a torso would be shoving into me. Within minutes they would by laying claim to 25% of my seat, my space. One of my few benefits of being small was being taken from me.

I was young, I was brash and I’d learnt over the years to take none of this crap. I clearly remember one trip, I think in my final year when I was tired and annoyed, when one massive chap sat next to me and started to spread and I just shouted “Oi! Get out of my seat! Get your fat arse and your fat arm out of my space! I have few benefits in my life from being small and my space on public transport is a rare one of them! Keep to your bloody side!”. I did not hold back at all on mentioning his massive blubbery state or his encroachment into my space. Oh, he was full of “Oh I did not realise, I’m not taking your space, how could you insult me for being larger” that I knew from experience was really “I chose the small guy to sit next to so I could have more space.” I’d watched him scan the seats, spot me and come over. I let rip and said “well move and sit next to someone normal size! Go on! MOVE!” He didn’t. He knew he needed some of my space. It was not a comfortable journey for either of us from then on and I suspect he did not need to get off at Sheffield, but for f***s sake, I get few benefits in life from being small. At least we were the entertainment for the other passangers for a while.

It is an aspect that has not gone away. For many years I’ve commuted into London and watched the pathetic games played by other commuters. Get on, put your stuff in the seat next to you (exactly how hard would it have been to put that coat and that little bag in the rack above your head? About the same as to spread it evenly over the seat by you) and look busy or angry. If you are lucky you can sit opposite someone by the window who has already played the double-seat-claim-game and can sit in the isle seat and put your crap on the inner seat – any new player will see it is easier to make someone move stuff from the isle seat than move stuff from the inner seat AND then climb past them to the spare window seat. Utterly selfish evil people will get on an empty coach, sit in the isle seat and then fill the window seat with their stuff that could so easily go in the overhead racks. They know how the game works and they have no sense of shame in being so selfish.

When I get on I often look at the pattern of seating in front of me and pick one of the buggers in the isle seat to move. Almost no one else does.

When I get on a train and sit down, I usually put my stuff under the seat or in the overhead racks. And given my height, if I can do it all you buggers can. And I sit. I try to sit forward-facing, I hate facing back as it make me feel a little sick, but other than that I have no rules. If I am in the isle, I will stand as soon as you ask to let you in. This is my little play to show I am nicer than all you other commuting buggers. Anyway, this train will get packed, I might as well get someone to the side of me so I can relax. Others get on and I often get someone next to me pretty soon as I am not playing silly buggers. It’s fine, soon all seats will be taken unless someone is being especially obnoxious about double seat protection. But I have to say, if someone massive (and usually a man) gets on and I see them scan the carriage and eyes fall in relief on me… I pat the seat next to me and smile. Sometimes I wave. It’s the only defense I know that works 95% of the time.

As a social commuter I hate the games the antisocial ones play, but as a small person, I bloody hate my space being bloody stolen by fat/large people. You could lose weight you know, I can’t grow! I paid for my seat, you paid for yours, for once in my short life, I bloody well want the benefit of my short stature. Now bugger off over to your side of the double seat.