I fly often, and I always run into the same problem: I’m heavier than average, and I physically don’t fit into a standard seat without encroaching on the person next to me.
So I decided in advance to buy two tickets — one window seat and the seat next to it — so I wouldn’t bother anyone.
I sat down and buckled my seatbelt when suddenly a woman with a small child approached me.
Without asking, she sat her child down in the empty seat next to me.
I calmly explained that this seat was also mine, that I paid for it, and that I needed it for personal reasons.
But the woman started protesting loudly.And then I did something that ended this little performance.
I calmly reached into my carry-on, pulled out the printed receipt showing both seat numbers in my name, and held it up — not just to the woman, but to the flight attendant who was now approaching with a concerned look.
“Hi,” I said politely, “I just want to clarify that I purchased both of these seats in advance for my own comfort and health reasons. I have the confirmation here.”
The woman immediately began to protest again, louder this time, saying something about me being selfish, her child being small, and how I “clearly didn’t need” both seats. But I stayed quiet and let the facts speak.
The flight attendant took one look at the receipt, nodded, and turned to the woman. “Ma’am, this passenger paid for both seats. You’ll need to move your child.”
“But he’s just a kid! Where do you expect us to go?” she argued.
“I can try to find you two seats together,” the attendant replied, her tone polite but firm. “But this row isn’t an option.”
The woman glared at me like I’d just kicked a puppy, muttered something under her breath, and finally stormed off with her son in tow.
I sat back down, buckled in again, and pulled out my book, feeling the wave of stress leave my body. A man across the aisle gave me a quiet thumbs-up.
Sometimes setting boundaries isn’t rude — it’s necessary.