The ass in row 11

As you probably know, I fly ALOT. More than many, not as much as some. So I'm on United flight 315 from Denver to Seattle. The flight is maybe 25% full so there is room for everyone to spread out a bit. I have my own row - row 12A-C.

So this guy - let's call him "Ass" for short - decides that he's going to be in the emergency row - row 11 A-C. The flight attendent tells him that she shouldn't let him sit there because it's a "premium" seat and he trys to dazzle her with some crap about weight distribution (this is a big plane, not some puddle jumper). She let's him stay and he chooses the middle seat. (I'm in the window. I love the window.)

We're 2 hours into a 2 1/2 hour flight when "Ass" decides to close his window. He follows basic airplane etiquette and turns to ask if its okay. Of course it is and he closes the window.

Here's the part where he earns his nickname - he slides to the window and slams his seat back into my legs. My CROSSED legs. No courtesy warning. Not even a glance back as a non-verbal indicator. Nothing but the slam. As I'm wimpering, trying to get my crossed legs unwedged, he doesn't look back - nothing. I wanted to ask the flight attendent to enforce the previously mentioned "premium seat" rule and make him move to the back - next to the smelly bathroom, in a middle seat, preferably between two sweaty sumo wrestlers fresh from a match that was followed up by some not so fresh sushi thus causing the smelly onboard commode.

Instead, I pulled out my Treo and chose to blog about it. Kinda made my knees feel better.
:)

Now we're preparing for arrival. I hope they lost his luggage.

S.
Via handheld