Big & Tall - No Way to Fly

Last week we went to Las Vegas for a few days and opted to fly from Phoenix rather than drive from our winter home in Mesa. Southwest Airlines had a sale so $49 for a round-trip ticket sounded better than driving six hours each way through the desert.

I have always feared flying, not for the usual reasons most might have; but because airline seats are generally built for the average 19th century adult, and not for the big and tall. I qualify on both counts, starting with a height of 6'4", and a weight that can only be guessed at. Surprisingly, despite my girth, I can fit into the seats width-wise, but knee room is often a problem. With extra long femurs, my knees push into the hard plastic back of the seat ahead and I spend the whole flight fearing that the passenger in front of me will suddenly want to lay down in my lap.

Reclining anywhere but First-Class should be a felony. Even for those vertically challenged folk whose knees are not crushed when the seatback comes back, the view of the top on a stranger's head is not usually a pleasant one. Miraculously the tray tables still seem to work with the seats back, but with my snack and Diet Coke on my table, the hair hanging above waiting to drop a strand (or worse) into my drink does not enhance moi bon appetit.

I try to anticipate my front neighbor's intention to shoot backwards by bracing his or her seatback with my knees. They try to recline but meet resistance and cannot figure out why the feature does not work. I smile when they finally give up after a few tries, and rest easier for the rest of the flight. There are some, however, who will wait a minute to try again, often surprising me when I am not on recline alert, and find the seat shooting back toward me followed by shooting pains in both knees. My only recourse is to let out a retched, pain-induced scream, which all but the most obtuse understand is from them causing me pain and suffering. Most will look over their shoulders, see the problem, and apologize for the assault.

Some, however, will look peeved at me for being so tall, and one even announced, "I have a right to recline!"

I responded with, "And I have a right to be able to walk for a few more years", which settled it for that flight.

When possible I try to get the aisle seat so that I can extend one leg at times. I can also lean toward the aisle to ease my incursion into the next seat space. Luckily (for me) I travel with my wife mostly, and she endures the incursion better than most strangers. Southwest Airlines seems to "get it" that moving that drink cart up and down those narrow aisles is not the most efficient, so they take drink orders like a cocktail waiter, and deliver my Diet Coke on a tray. Those airlines still using those heavy, wheeled Patton tanks, will continue to ply the aisles inevitably ramming my knee and driving my femur further into my hip.

Seat belt length does not seem to standardized across the airlines, so I sometimes find my seat belt to be tad short (or two tads short) so have to ask for an extension from the flight attendants. Most will discreetly get the belt extension and slip it stealthily to me as they pass in case I might be embarrassed. I'm not. But one attendant could not have cared less about my possible mortification when she came down the aisle, holding the extension high for all to see and then said, "Who needed this seat belt extension?"

On the return flight from Las Vegas, we managed to get in line early enough to select an aisle seat for me so once I got settled with my knees planted firmly on the seat in front of me, my seat belt fastened (no extension needed) and my slight trespass into my wife's personal space, I was feeling fairly smug, until I glanced across the aisle.

Sitting not 18 inches from me was Ali Vincent, the last season winner of the Biggest Loser reality series. She was reading a People magazine, turned to an article on some celebs weight loss. Ali was from Mesa so I couldn't help touch her arm and say to her that I was glad to see that she was still successful. I mentioned something about her being an inspiration and she was very gracious and thanked me. She must have wondered what kind of inspiration I was talking about as she surely noted my seat belt cutting into my abdomen and my wife listing slightly toward the window.