An Ode to the Middle Seat

The middle seat. You know, the one you wish and hope and pray that you don't get stuck with when you fly. The sheer thought of seeing any number with the letter 'B' behind it makes me break out in a cold sweat. Well, after having to change my flight home from Michigan due to an uninvited guest that we are currently hosting named Isaac, I was forced to endure 97 minutes in this vinyl and peanut-residue laden purgatory. You lean back, but there is nowhere to put your head. You fold the tray table down to have a place to put your head, but the gentleman in front of you decides to simultaneously lean back, therefore getting your hair stuck between his seat and the table. Alas, you decide rest is not to be had, so you get your hot tea, play a little Scrabble, and count down the minutes until deplaning. Ahh, the middle seat.

Photo courtesy of Sonic