My Thoughts on Seating in Planes

Well, after searching rampantly for quite some time, I finally determined that it is 11.30ish on Sunday, July 31st. I'm listening to Damien Jurado right now, after trying to catch some shut-eye but to no avail. I must say that I was incredibly lucky today, and that my habit of being ridiculously punctual paid off yet again. I had seen earlier today that there were two flights out to Warsaw, one at 4.50pm and the other one for which I was scheduled at 9.50. Around 4pm, I saw that a horde of people had lined up to the check-in area for Polish Airlines, which was the airline I booked my flight with as well. So, after waiting only about 50 minutes, which is really quite fast for having to check-in at least 50 passengers, it was finally my turn to hand over my baggage that I had been schlepping around the whole day - man was that getting annoying whenever I wanted to go have a cigarette, needed to go to the bathroom or wanted to grab something to eat. I informed the clerk that I wasn't checking into the 4.50 pm flight, which almost seemed obvious since it was already 4.50 by the time I reached the counter and I therefore assumed it would be understood that I was going for the next flight. To my utter surprise and dismay, I was promptly told that the 9.50 flight had bee cancelled due to mechanical problems which clearly upset me but also provided a sense of relief, as I'd rather them have ascertained a fault with the airplane before takeoff, as opposed to mid-flight! Anyway, I was told that I may actually be able to catch the 4.50 flight to Warsaw as it hadn't departed yet and there may be spots available in the plane. Thank goodness, the clerk came back with my new flight information and boarding pass, so I promptly ran to the security area as I knew that would be the greatest impediment or deterrent in actually gaining the chance to get on this flight. Naturally, I just ran into the first line I could get into and, whether it just seemed like my line was the only one not moving, or the other lines were just pumping out people at a much greater rate, but I was certainly getting incredibly agitated at my stagnant rate of progress. Still, I made it through security without a mark, ran to gate M03 and they had yet to begin boarding, though they began about 2 minutes after my arrival.
Entering the airplane, I was immediately overcome by the familiar dry and almost arid air that permeated the cabin. I was greeted with a friendly Polish, "Hello!" or at least I would only assume that's what was uttered to me reflected back with my dumbfounded countenance. I crept with the slightest agitation, cautiousness, and trepidation as I neared row 19C, the seat that would determine my fate for the coming 9 hours. Many people say to count one's blessings, that hardships are aplenty and that there are reasons blessings come in small, unexpected packages. As I reached the middle of the plane, I felt a sense of dread overcome my entire being. "Please don't let my seat be in the middle, squashed in between two smelly and physically verbatious strangers...or worse yet, next to a screaming child." I gently ducked my head to look underneath the overhead compartments upon which the faint but ominous numbers were plastered. The plane itself seemed to be somewhat old, having been over more seas and land than a human ever could in his lifetime. The numbers I read while hesitantly making my way to my potential torture chamber reflected a sense of history themselves: how horrid would it be to take on such an existence that would instantaneously alter the mood and outlook of a single person for the following X hours? The passenger quickly glancing, almost frantically looking for a missing pot of gold that is supposed to be affixed to the location on one's ticket, only to find a used and abused semblance of a prize in its place. Such is the fate of millions of passengers who realize they've entered a ride they must endure in its entirety regardless of pleasure or pain.
Alas! I did not have to confront this demon of insufferable torment for the next 9 hours but was rather greeted with the wide and welcoming arms of the place to call my home until Warsaw. While my hind quarters certainly become a bit too familiarized with my plush plateau, for the first time in all my flights abroad, I was able to stretch my legs entirely in front of me. It's amazing what simple luxuries we yearn for - or would even like the smallest of samplings - when they're surreptitiously removed from our daily habits; furthermore, it's even more aamzing how quickly we beome aware of that absence and our convinced inability to assimilate to the immediate surroundings. Perhaps, especially in extraneous situations such as long-term flights, the thought of the end of the voyage, of no longer being trapped in the steel cage with such limited accessibility contribute to a greater difficulty in overcoming this drastic change. I, for one, am overjoyed and feel a renewed energy immediately upon leaving the plane!