I have just returned from a quickbusiness trip to Washington, D.C. I donot fly that frequently for work these days so when I do, I treasure theuninterrupted hours I get to spend solo emerged in a sea of people. It is sucha perfect environment for observing human behavior and I am obviously not alone in thinking so, given the countlessarticles written about air travel. Take armrest etiquette, forexample. I just Googled it and got about 47,000 matches. 47,000! We travelers surely feel strongly aboutour personal space and what we believe to be our personal rights. The general consensus on this particulartopic appears to be that middle seats suck so much that the middleseatersshould have priority pick of the armrests on both sides. I am not entirely sold.
On this particular trip I had anaisle seat -- bonus! -- and a slender woman next to me -- double bonus! -- exceptshe very quickly started to cough up her lungs. I am a germaphobe, which is amplified when confined in small spaces. On apositive note there was no question about who got the armrest, as I was notgoing anywhere near it. Sick people onplanes are a pet peeve of mine and I am sure that I am personally fundingcollege for the kids of the hand sanitizer executives. Now that I have gotten that offmy chest, on to a far more interesting episode!
On the other side of the aisle wasa mother with two young girls. At the very tail end of boarding a woman showsup with her son, who looked to be around 12, and his assigned seat wasoccupied by one of the young girls who was strapped into a car seat. The boy'smother immediately puffs herself up for confrontation. The young girls' motherproceed to explain how there are spare seats on the plane and she was informedat check-in that she should bring the car seat and her family could sittogether. The boy's mother makes it veryclear with large arm gestures that she is not flexible. That seat istheirs! The girls' mother is not budging to the demands though.
First one, then two, flightattendants arrive and the situation just escalates. The small girls are nowcrying and we right at departure time. A gate attendant shows up, declaringthat the plane is going to be delayed as they now have to get the car seat off andchecked in. Rules are rules. What! Up tothis point I have just watched this standoff unfold baffled by the rigidposition of all the involved parties, but at the word "delay" I literally springinto action. As much as I love solo time, six hours is more than plenty!
I stand up and get eye contactwith the boy. I ask him if a big dude like him really needs to sit right by hismother -- a very leading question -- and heconfirms he does not. I ask him to go and sit in the free middle seat acrossfrom his mother's seat to see how it feels. He complies. I ask his mother tosit in her assigned seat to see if she is okay with her son's placement fromher seated position. Turns out she is. Case closed. We depart. I feel heroic for all of one second, then sad,because this is exactly why there are so many unresolved conflicts in theworld -- an inflexibility rooted in our own sense of righteousness. So on myfuture travels I for one need to start accepting a little less elbowroom!
"Conflict cannot survive withoutyour participation"
- Wayne Dyer
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