After a short flight south to Munich, I boarded my second flight, to Abu Dhabi. At check-in back in Hamburg I'd been pleased to bag myself an exit row window seat for this flight - the holy grail of economy seating. Now I wasn't so sure. 'Ah, I think that's my seat' I muttered to the rather rotund man squashed into the next seat, who was already spilling over into my seat, intentionally with his elbow, unintentionally with his belly. Is this a British thing? I knew full well that 23a was my seat - I'd been tapping away at my boarding card for the last hour having had a wait between flight connections. The man gave a large, toothy, apologetic grin and resettled his elbow a few millimetres further forward on the adjoining seat rest. I loaded my bag into the overhead locker and took my seat to begin the strategic battle of shared armrest occupation. He leaned forward for the in-flight magazine, I nonchalantly slid my elbow a little further onto the armrest staring impassively ahead. He noticed. Point to me. Space immediately lost due to my innapropriately timed coughing fit. Point to him. Once we'd got settled, it wasn't a bad flight in the end and even managed to sleep for a couple of hours.
I thought back to Munich airport again. At one point I thought I was getting an upgrade. A free upgrade. The elusive of all elusives in plane travel. The lady on the gate made an announcement over the tannoy, a list of people who were to go to the gate desk to see her. I was half listening until I heard my name called out. I couldn't believe it. This was it - what I'd been waiting for my whole flying life. I gathered up my things and strode purposefully over to the desk. 'Can I see your passport and boarding pass, please?' I handed both over eagerly and waited patiently while she checked the photo page against the boarding pass, then flipped back a few pages to where my Vietnamese visa was attached. 'Thanks' she said, handing them back. I looked expectantly at her. 'We just need to check transit passengers, that's all' she explained with a look in her eye that told me she knew exactly what I'd been waiting for. I took my passport and boarding pass back from her and despondently turned back to face where I'd been sat. There, in the seat I'd just vacated was a rather rotund man, spilling over onto the seat either aside, fully using both armrests to the annoyance of the passengers either side and staring with a glazed expression at a blank point on the wall ahead.
