A recent work trip took me to Japan, I was there for 2 weeks. On the flight back from Tokyo, I was sitting next to a lovely Japanese man travelling to Frankfurt, with an onward flight to Krakow. This was his first business trip outside of Japan. Everytime I needed to go to the toilet I had to step over him. On the way back sometimes he would have fallen asleep by the timeI got back. So I would just sit in a the empty seat in the middle aisle. Waiting for him to either stir or to wake up. I only have short legs, so stepping over him would mean nearly mounting him. I didn’t want that to be my legacy on this plane. Knowing my luck just as I stepped one leg over his horizontal body there would be turbulence. Then he would open his eyes to see me dry humping him whilst straddled over him. The seat was in business class – economy people there are issues with business class!
So I waited.
While in the seat I started contemplating stealing the extra toiletries bag from the empty seat.
On the other side of me, a man was watching a movie on his tablet at full volume with no headphones. Up front, the most gorgeous, teething German-Japanese baby was fussing. Plenty to keep me entertained.
Eventually, my seatmate woke up. He jolted upright and immediately started adjusting his chair to let me back in. In his haste he was pressing all the buttons, I told him that it should be fine I will step over him. But he kept going. At one point we met at eye-level, while I was standing next to him, he had pressed so many buttons in his dance. Eventually he got to a position that I could step over him.
He then started frantically feeling about in his chair, he told me he was looking for his phone. He started pressing the control for the chair again. The control is like one of those hospital beds. So many functions!
He started moving the leg rest backwards, but it just kept whirring. Then he adjusted the headrest to go back, and the same time pressed the leg rest button.Then we all heard it a loud snap.
I suggested he call a flight attendant for help. But at this point It was too late. The air hostess looked aggrieved, she went down on her knees, and pulled out the phone in two pieces—a shattered screen protector and a bent phone.
The poor man looked like he was about to cry. He took it from the air-hostess and tried to straighten his phone and turn it on.
The air hostess promptly informed him that his phone was now a fire hazard—the battery could catch fire at any moment.
“Would you like to keep an eye on it yourself, or shall my team monitor it?”
Apparently, they were already watching one from first class. The poor man was very confused as he tried to turn it on again. The air hostess grabbed it from him and said, no sir the phone is broken it does not work anymore. Confirmed his name and seat number, and said he could pick up the phone when disembarking the man. He looked so sad.
I asked if he had another phone. He said no.
I said oh. I told him he could use my phone in Frankfurt, he told me he didn’t know any numbers.
Then, the air hostess returned to remind him: This is why we ask people not to adjust their seat if they lose or drop something.
Ouch. That’s rubbing shit in his face after he’s already stepped in it.
Then, the cream of it all—a tannoy announcement:
“Passengers in First and Business Class, please be advised that adjusting your seat while items are in the mechanism may cause damage. If it is a phone or tablet, it may become a fire hazard.”
I remember sitting in Economy, hearing this message in the past and thinking, “Those people fucking deserve it.”
Now?
Looking at this poor man, I thought differently.
Oh fuck—he might actually be crying.
Why am I so hydrated? I think I might need to go for a nervous wee. 4 hours of the flight left.
Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit.
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