Space

Okay, okay – I will say it right away, I don’t mean space, like in Star Trek. That’s for another blog. I mean space, like the aisle airplane seat I gave up, when I was asked by an attendant coming back from Minneapolis to Chicago. After paying an extra $10 for a selected aisle seat, we were almost on our way, when I had a feeling that something was up, since an attendant was standing near me. The universe humbled me, after I thought – “Wow, you’re going to have extra room with no one beside you!”

Then she asked, “Would you mind scooting over. We have a situation.” A situation? What situation? “Is there another aisle seat I could have?” I asked. “Yes, but a few rows back,” she said. “Oh, nevermind, as I scooted over.” Her co-worker could tell I wasn’t too happy, and she brought me a bottled water and said, “Thank you for being so kind.”

Another gentleman then came down and sat in my seat. But was it my seat?

Sure, I paid for it. I expected it. I wanted an aisle. Ridiculous thoughts entered my head, such as – what if we crash, and the aisle sit lives, and the middle seated person dies? Or, this is a sign? Or, random reasons about the “situation.” Was it race related? Religious? I hadn’t heard of a fight. Why didn’t the guy move back to the further back aisle seat?

The only saving grace was the idea that I was a “kind” person. Good karma, I thought. Good karma. And, it’s okay if you don’t know about the situation. Trust the expert that it was needed.

I then took a few deep breathes and let it go.