Payback

Karma's a bitch.

I had the opportunity to take a few days' leave, AND I found a round-trip ticket from Seattle/Tacoma to Pittsburgh for a measly $300!

After booking the flight, the next day I checked to print my boarding passes, and found I could leave 12 hours earlier for the same price. Bonus!
(Continental is my new favorite airline.)

I spent the last three days lounging around the house, playing with the kids and the dog, and irritating the Mrs.

It was a sorely needed mini-vacation.

I checked my boarding passes online last night, and scored exit-row seats with no seat in front of me--ah, sweet legroom.

When I booked, it also looked like I'd have the whole row to myself, too.

That's when 2LT Murphy showed up.

As I boarded, a guy stood in front of me. I think at one time, he may have been three guys, but he ate the other two.

"Holy Cats!" I thought, and then, with a smirk, secretly thanked Jebus he wasn't sitting with me.

Nazzo fast, said Murphy.

Since I'd opted for the extra-legroom seat, I had the window.
Lunchbox had the other two. He plopped one hemisphere in one seat, and one in the other.
Okay, cool, no encroachment on my personal space.

Nazzo fast, quoth Murphy.

Apparently, Lunchbox only paid for one seat, and a standby traveler came running on at the last minute, right to my row. Lunchbox couldn't sit on the aisle, because he squished out around the armrest too far (it actually disappeared). So he got the middle seat, plus 1/3 of mine and 1/3 of the other guys. He had all 3 air vents pointed at him, to little effect, other than to allow everyone around him to enjoy his aroma. I almost laughed when he asked for a seat-belt extension, and I think I heard an audible "pop" inside my head when he had to ask for a second one.

The best part, holding my comments to myself when the stewardess asked us if we were all groovy with sitting in the exit row and doing "exit row duties." As lunchbox would've CLEARLY never fit through the exit door, I gladly agreed to the duty, knowing that in the event of an emergency, I would be the only one going out that door, and have the life raft all to myself. I also treasured the thought of him trying to stay afloat on a seat cushion (maybe he'd borrow 1/3 of mine, too.)

If you think I'm exaggerating, I snapped this photo of him at the exit gate--where he had to rest, after getting off a 3 hour flight, apparently from the stress of being "cooped up" in the airplane. Try being "cooped up" inside someone's back-fat, tiny.