Moose Lake Star Gazette - Serving Carlton and Pine Counties Since 1895

By Wick Fisher
Moose Lake Star Gazette 

I get the window seat

Wick's World


When flying time comes around, I always book a window seat and my wife grabs the aisle. We are rarely in a two-seat row, which means some poor sap usually gets to sit between us. When I approached row No. 16, my wife was already riding shotgun on the aisle. I made the mistake of acknowledging her as my wife; we generally travel incognito, which can sometimes be rather interesting.

Our designated poor sap sitting in the middle seat, the one with no room, quickly asked, "Do you want to sit together?" as he made a move toward my window seat.

Acting as though I didn't hear him, I replied,"I have the window seat."

Again, he made an effort for the window when he said,"Do you want to sit by her?"

"No," I said. "I'm a window guy."

He pulled his legs in a full inch, refusing to stand. I squeezed by as our legs crunched each other. He was decked out in full denim with wraparound shades covering what I suspected were a pair of angry eyes. I figured I was fairly safe sitting in the bowels of a 737 and I couldn't recall ever having heard of a drive by shooting at baggage claim.

All I needed to do was try not to tick him off during the flight. That proved to be much more difficult than imaginable.

We both settled in for an early morning nap — me comfortably lying with my pillow tucked against the window. He was sitting as rigid as a board with his head tilted enough to ensure a stiff neck.

I awoke to the smell of hot coffee; he remained semi-comatose. I got a cup from the stewardess and in an instant, I spilled the boiling coffee down his leg. He simultaneously jerked his leg up and his arm down as he vigorously rubbed his thigh. I thanked my Savior as he disgustingly turned his head aside.

I breathed a sigh of relief and plugged in my headphones for a much-needed meditation. Just then the plug popped out and landed smack dab in between his legs. I knew if I dared to stick my hand anywhere near his private area, I would most likely never live to see another day.

It was time for some ingenuity. One way or another, I had to retrieve my headphones. I carefully began to reel them in like a fishing line. The tickle was too much. He awoke and cast a strange look in my direction as I was pulling the cord toward me. I needed some quick thinking to get out of this one.

"Sorry," I said. "You picked the wrong guy to sit by. I'm a disaster in an airplane. I can't stay still."

The rest of the flight was fairly uneventful. If I could escape him after disembarking the plane, I felt I had a decent chance of living another day. I stood at the curb awaiting our ride. When I looked to my right, we locked eyes.

"Man! I can't shake you, dude!" he said.

We walked toward each other laughing. As we reached out to shake hands and exchange Thanksgiving greetings, I knocked his iPad to the ground.


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