Flying the friendly skies...back seat in the middle over the hump...

The title of this blog may not make a lot of sense. Here’s the story-

A long time ago my bother drove around with five friends in his crappy little Nissan Sentra. Every time they would approach the car, they would all shout out "Shotgun". Since there were six of them, that left the other four to fight over who got to ride in the back and who got left behind. One of them got smart (kind of). He found that if he called out “Back seat in the middle over the hump”, he got a ride to wherever they were headed (however uncomfortable).
Well, last week I took a flight to Phoenix for a job interview and I must have called “Back seat in the middle over the hump” and not known it. I not only got the middle seat but I got the chairs that don’t lean back and a 350 lb garbage salesman (deduced from his smell) who just had another major reconstructive surgery (deduced this from the way he was sitting with his legs spread eagle).
Before the plane started to pull away from the gate, the flight attendant went into her cackling about safety. When she started talking about the seat cushions serving as a flotation device, I couldn't help but realize that Jabba the Hut probably floats pretty well. If we really did crash, I could hold onto a little square of foam and flip around like an injured seal, or I could ride the human raft sitting next to me. I could stretch my legs out and get a tan! Then I quickly realized that everyone else would see me sprawled out and climb on board too. It would soon look like a Cuban refugee boat and I would be smashed like a sardine all over again.
Then in a moment of brilliance, I remembered that I was flying to Phoenix and we would not be crashing into any water (only jagged rocks).
So, I rode all the way to Phoenix with my elbows glued to my hips and my knees touching. Quite enjoyable!