The TAP Portugal airline plane had a 2-4-2 seating arrangement, and as I took my aisle seat for the seven-and-a-half hour flight to Lisbon, the man in the window seat didn’t look happy. I understood – I too would have been dreaming of an aisle and a window all to myself – but I was surprised by the gruff, unfriendly response when I asked him a question.
It was not a full flight. In fact, there was an empty aisle-and-window combo two rows in front of us. I was contemplating moving up after takeoff when a boy of about 12 sprinted past me and scored them for himself. So I transferred my desires to a middle aisle seat two rows up that appeared to have an empty seat next to it.
My excuse – in the rare event that my neighbor took offense – would be the infant behind us whose frequent squeals neither parent seemed able to silence.
The plane took off and I moved up. As I settled into my new seat, my ex-neighbor passed on his way to the restroom. On his trip back, he gave me an enthusiastic thumbs up.
Hours later I got up to use the restroom in the back. Passing my old seat, I saw sitting in it the father of the squealing child. He was large, the sort of man who, when you see him coming down the aisle, triggers the thought: I hope he doesn’t stop here. I felt some high altitude schadenfreude.
Before landing I got up to use the restroom again. My former neighbor was asleep, or at least feigning it, while next to him the heavy-set father dandled his infant on his knees.
