josh and the fat man

it was sunday evening. me and andrew were waiting for our flight out to portland, oregon. i had heard all day about the upcoming hurricane. how sandy was gonna have her way with the area. two of our other friends already flew out to portland earlier in the day. all day, i couldn't stop myself from thinking, "shit's gonna get fucked up. weather's gonna get bad. they're gonna cancel our flight. we're not going to portland."

that didn't happen. we found ourselves at an airport bar. the people flying out of new york city inside of kennedy airport seemed to be the only group of people in the area that didn't worry much about hurricane sandy. we were all escaping. the skies were clear. the planes were lifting off. shit was running flawlessly. as me and andrew chowed down on overpriced airport pizza and drank fancy airport beer, i realized, holy shit, we're getting out of here. we're going to portland.

when our plane was boarding, i noticed an obese couple in the same waiting area. i jokingly said to andrew, "hope i don't end up sitting next to one of them." andrew chuckled and nothing more was thought about it. all i wanted to do was get on that plane and be 30,000 miles high. then, and only then, would i be fully sure that we were gonna make it to portland and i can stop worrying.

me and andrew weren't sitting next to each other on this flight. we were two of the last passengers to get tickets for it so we got split up. not too far, he was directly behind me. but as we were walking to our row, andrew turns to me and says, "dude, i think you're sitting next to that dude." he didn't need to point. i knew exactly who he was talking about. they had split the obese couple up and there he was, sitting on the aisle seat of my row. i counted the rows i had left to get there... counting them over and over and over hoping that math, numbers, and logic would change between now and the time i get to my row... that this wasn't true.

it was true. this guy was huge. his wide bottom took up one and a half seats. that half a seat was also half my seat. tremors of panic rushed through my body. what was i gonna do? i couldn't sit next to him for 6 hours. this wasn't gonna work. there just wasn't enough room for both of us. as i approached i said, "hey sorry man, umm, i'm sitting there." i pointed to the seat next to his that was half filled with the side of his body. he got up, i took my seat, and then he sat again. there i was, shoved into half a seat. there was an empty seat next to me but we were told that the flight was fully sold. i was certain that seat belonged to someone and i would not be fortunate enough to have two empty seats to myself for this flight (i was correct. she showed up about 3 minutes later).

after he sat down he turns to me and says, "i'm sorry. i tried to buy two seats. but they wouldn't let me. they said there weren't enough available, that i could only have one. maybe they can move you elsewhere."

i knew they couldn't. i knew the flight was fully sold. i politely said, "umm, it's okay man. whatever. we'll deal with this somehow."

for the record, i still have no idea how to deal with this situation. i was angry, angry cuz i already hate flying, cuz planes are already too small for my tall frame, that i'm never comfortable on planes as is... and now, now i'm shoved into half a seat cuz the dude next to me had to get on this flight. but i can't complain. how rude is that? what would i say? and what if they did nothing? what if the only fix was for me to get off and catch another flight? and if that was the case, i knew there'd be no other flight. i knew a hurricane was showing up tomorrow and would ruin any chance i had of going to portland. if i really wanted to end up in portland, oregon, like i had been planning for months to be, then i was gonna have to grin and bear the fuck out of this situation.

while i'm stewing, he asks if i'm a stand up comedian, to which i say, "oddly enough, i am."

then he says, "well this will be good material."

ugh. this guy is being so conversational, self deprecating, courteous, and friendly that it's making me angrier. but i'm not gonna do anything about it. i'm gonna swallow my anger. i'm gonna do my best to get through this.

as the plane starts to move, the captain makes an announcement. he tells us we're backed up and won't be taking off for an hour. that's one more hour of me next to this dude, me crammed into half an airplane seat. as we're waiting, he makes small talk. and i try to oblige the best i can. we hit the basics. what do you do for work? what are you going to portland for? what are your dietary habits and where do you see them getting you in five years? (okay, that last one didn't actually happen).

we eventually take off. flight staff wouldn't even make eye contact with me. it was like a game to me. i'd purposely stare them down as hard as possible every time they passed. they wouldn't even glance. they could barely make eye contact when they took our beverage order. and i ordered a beer and it was a great damn beer cuz i was in pain. i was dying inside. i wanted to cry. but i didn't. i sucked it up. i drank my beer. i watched tv (jetblue has complimentary tv). i did my best to focus on tv, beer, turbulence, whatever. anything to make the time go faster.

at one point, i needed to move my seat back. i hate moving my seat back on an airplane mostly cuz i hate when other people do it in front of me. but it was too much. i go to do it but the button i have to push is on the arm of the chair that i can't reach because it's still in its upright position because the dude's too big for it to be lowered. in a move of desperation, i turn to andrew who's right behind me and say, "dude, can you press that button so i can move back. i need to move my chair." i didn't wanna say it out loud but i had to. i mean fuck it, maximum awkwardness was reached before this plane even took off.

that's when my new fat buddy turns to me and says, "oh, my name's andrew too."

i move my seat back, "oh. hey, i'm josh." we shake hands.

i go back to the tv. and i watch and watch and try to ignore any indication of time, thinking it might go faster if i don't pay attention. about two hours into the flight i turn to andrew (the big one taking up half my seat who i will now warmly refer to as big andrew) and say, "hey, i need to use the bathroom."

big andrew says, "if i get up, i'm gonna knock this woman in front of me into next tuesday."

"dude, i have to pee. there's nothing i can do about it. it's gotta happen."

"okay." he gets up and doesn't knock the woman in front of him into next tuesday, although if he did have that ability i'd be the first in line cuz it sounds like a more comfortable form of transportation to portland at this point.

i get in the bathroom and i pee. and then i chill. i just take a minute to relax and enjoy the space. i try and hug the walls. i wash my hands thoroughly. i think about how nice it would be to finish the next four hours of this flight right here in the bathroom. and then i snap back into reality. as i leave the bathroom, i grab a flight attendant and say, "hey, can i get another beer?" she tells me she'll bring it to my seat in a couple minutes.

i go back to my chair and i'm feeling good. i'm thinking i can do this. i'm not gonna snap. i'm gonna be alright. attendant comes by and she hands me my beer. i enjoy it but try not to drink it too fast. this is the only comfort i have. i need to make it last.

and then not much else happens. i uncomfortably channel surf for four hours. big andrew adjusts his position every now and then reminding me of the predicament i was trying to forget i was in. i try to think about landing. i try to think about portland. i try to think about tomorrow and how i'll wake up in a bed in a hotel with enough space to stretch and be comfortable, how no matter how bad right now is, no one can take that moment away from me. i'll be okay.

before we landed, the attendant came around and told me the beers were on the house. $6 each. she didn't say why they were comped. but i knew why, the attendant knew why, and i'm pretty damn certain that big andrew knew why. i awkwardly thanked her and thought to myself how i should've drank more beer.

and then we landed. it was the most miserable flight of my life. and i'm almost positive it's the most physically uncomfortable i've ever been. but i did it. and the odd and sorta sad part is that big andrew was a nice dude. we'd banter back and forth every now and again during the flight. he's pretty much the nicest stranger i ever met on an airplane. we even had a few kind words when we got off the plane. "be good buddy." "you too."

but as nice as he was, i'm partially traumatized. on the day of the flight back to jersey, i couldn't stop thinking about the possibility of it happening again. seems almost impossible but yet entirely possible. for as long as i live, i hope i never have to share half my seat with half of another man again. and that's it. that's my tale. i'm not gonna wax poetic about how i could've handled it differently or ways to make sure this doesn't happen again. it happened. it's written. it's done.