“I think they screwed our seats up.”
We had ponied up the extra dough for premium seats with extra legroom, like we had gotten on the overseas flight over. However, there was a mix-up somewhere along the way and our reserved seats had gone bye-bye.
I was trying to get some dumb old lady out of my aisle seat when the stewardess looked at my boarding pass and directed Anita and I to the middle two in a four-seat row.
Are you kidding me? At 6’4”, flying is never exactly comfortable for me, but this is looking like a death sentence.
At least each seat has its own built-in portable movie player, only the one on my seat doesn’t work. Of course it doesn’t…
And as soon as we’re off the ground, the person in the row in front of me decides she’s going to lay her seat back horizontally so she can get comfortable.
It’s okay… we only have ten hours of flying time ahead of us.
I break out my notebook and start writing a bunch of posts about my trip to Italy.
Thus concludes the adventures of Jack Sh*tily, Goin’ to Italy. Regular Jack Sh*t, Gettin’ Fit programming will continue tomorrow.
