Vordersitz - Front Seat

The front seat, or rather front row of seats on a plane is the only place you can sit to guarantee the prevention of an all-expenses-paid trip to Crampsville for your legs, or to its even less desirable neighbour, Crushedto-fuckville. It wouldn’t be the case if practically all air passengers in the world weren’t the complete selfish cockstains they are. But no, it’s apparently a basic human right to recline your seat to its extreme the second the seatbelt sign goes off, regardless of how shittily uncomfortable it makes anyone else. Now you may think this tirade is based on one or two recent bad experiences on scummy airlines, and that my seat-based luck-tank is simply running dry. Well firstly, the idea of a storage tank for seat-based luck isn’t a bad one - Theo Paphitis will snap that right up, so get working on that prototype! Secondly, and a bit more importantly, I base this on the close to thirty flights I’ve taken both within and between several different countries over the last three years. Everywhere it’s the same. Eastern and western Europe, north America, Australasia, south-east Asia - about eighty to ninety percent of the time it was the default post-takeoff action to be carried out. It’s a xenophobe’s worst nightmare: every race uniting, sharing a common dream to instinctively spread that dull, aching, leg-related pain to everyone, regardless of skin colour, ancestry or creed. In most cases too, when a polite anti-crippling request was made, it was either outright ignored or resulted in the tiniest adjustment, accompanied by a sneering “You happy now?” remark. The prevailing attitude seems to be Well I paid for my seat, I’ll put it how I damn please! It makes me really pine for the days when guns, knives, hammers and lawnmowers were allowed on planes so these conceited tossers could receive the bloody mid-flight justice they deserve. (YouTube ’Braindead lawnmower scene’ this very second if you’re confused). Actually, even if you’re not confused, look it up anyway because it’s brilliant! Okay, personally, were I to want to encroach on the already meagre space of whoever is sat behind me, I’d turn around and ask first. It’s the most basic of common courtesy, even if they’re absolute wankers. Perhaps it affects me more because of my inbuilt politeness chip that engages during any verbal interaction with strangers. It’s the same chip that forces an automatic apology whenever someone bumps into me or stands on my foot, or calls me a fanny face in the street. Fortunately, it doesn’t apply to my textual output, so I can be as openly horrible to strangers as I like. Except you. If you’re bothering to read my words you’ll get a free pass on most things, or at least get let in for student rate. However, please note that if you recline in front of me on the day I do finally snap, I’ll probably slash your face. Or if the plastic cutlery fails me, take a slash in your face. Just so we‘re clear.