I threw myself into a seat near Gate 18D on Jan 25th. at Sacramento International Airport, I take the last swig of my 32-oz Diet Coke. The plane was due to arrive in 40 minutes, so I leaned over to look at the disaster.
Then, a friendly Southwest flight agent came up to me, and asked to see my e-ticket. A woman in a pink suit and matching headphones next to me flinched, probably wondering if some meme-worthy security lapse was about to happen.
I just smiled, knowing what was going to happen before I even handed over my ticket.
“We’ll have to get you a second seat,” said the Southwest woman, cheerfully and non-judgmentally. “You don’t have to get up, I’ll take care of you.”
OK. It’s impossible not to feel hurt when a stranger checks your size and decides you’re too big to fit in an airplane seat. But that didn’t begin to explain the emotions running through my mind.
The airplane seat is my backbone – and the hardest part of the whole trip. I look closely at the flight maps; consult reddit about seat dimensions and seat recline. I read the fine print of each airline’s policies regarding purchasing another seat “for my convenience.”
Two decades ago, I weighed 465 pounds when a Southwest flight attendant stopped me for boarding at Burbank Airport and demanded my credit card to get a second seat. A few years later, despite a lot of internet research, I accidentally took a “premium” seat with fixed armrests that would not rise and give me more room. Still, my roommate wanted to be moved, saying a sad “I’m sorry, my friend” as the flight attendant patted him down a few rows up.
The only way I made it to the wedding in Istanbul was by sitting casually on top of my carry-on bag, the most uncomfortable 10 hours of my life. On the way back, British Airways decided that my nearly 500-pound body was needed three seats to do it without incident.
So buying that extra seat became my regular habit. It was expensive. Most of the time I traveled was for work, and I only charged the newspaper for one seat. But it wasn’t a big deal. It makes traveling stress-free and comfortable. I tried business class once, but the price was too high and the seat was still too hard. But I was very proud to leave the world with a body that I feared would eventually reach a state of confinement. A few hundred bucks wasn’t so bad for that right, that freedom.
The story of big people and small plane seats a long time ago tabloid fodder again red meat for message board posters. There is one promoter of social greatness whose Instagram travel posts they have kept British business tabs by criticizing the “fat phobic” critics. Some activists disagree the habit of forcing too much weightt people to buy more seats prices “oil washing.”
But I didn’t believe that. The truth is that my body spills over into someone else’s seat. I will not fight on the rare occasion that my size affects other people.
Then a few years ago, I had gastric sleeve surgery. I weighed 325 pounds when I flew to a wedding in New York. I got two United Airlines seats but I felt so comfortable I wondered if one was enough. With insurance, I continued to buy two cross-country cruises but began testing the future with my regular Southwest cruises to Sacramento and the Bay Area.
Back then, every Southwest trip was a game of roulette.
I paid a few bucks to ride first, chose my list and dared to join me. On some flights, I hated looking at all the passengers boarding, fearing that look of disappointment, or worse, when they found out I was going to be their seat mate for the next five hours. But with Southwest’s open seats, everyone was on their own. So instead of hunching down and trying to look as thin as possible, I stretched, stretched my legs and found a comfortable position.
I’ve used this trick about a dozen times, and not once has anyone sat next to me, even on planes that look close to full. The winning continues on Friday, Jan. 23, while flying from Long Beach to Sacramento.
Then came the return flight on Sunday and the gate way of the Southwest agent.
I didn’t feel ashamed. I didn’t feel angry or humiliated. I really didn’t care what the woman in pink thought. During this epidemic, I had gained back more than 30 pounds. Maybe that sealed my fate? Or was it that big Coke cup or that blue sweater that was a size too small that made me a goal?
After a few minutes, I found out the truth.
Southwest was preparing in a few days to get rid of open seats and go to pre-assigned seat sales. Prior to the policy change the airline was seen hitting the ground running early. My flight was half full, so the attendant simply printed a second ticket for me at no charge. I would have had to pay for all the baggage if the flight was full. He was telling the truth so he changed the conversation that once brought me so much embarrassment into something pleasant, I thank him very much.
There was a time when the attitude of the airline police officer was embarrassing and angry, especially for me. I always vowed to make another meal. Don’t fly again until I get into one seat. Avoid the airport Interstate 5, where no one can see how I fit into my bucket seat.
When I boarded, I placed both of my tickets in front of the scanner without worrying about what everyone behind me would think. I was told to put an extra ticket on the seat next to me so others would know it was taken. But I didn’t. I eased myself into my seat and looked up at the passengers boarding, enjoying Southwest’s open seat roulette one last time.
I have learned over the years that no one will accept my weight unless I accept it. I’m having trouble getting into an economy seat. That’s a physics and pricing problem, not a character flaw.
