Footsies Anyone?

Is there no airplane etiquette anymore?  I know you are in cramped quarters and personal space is at a premium but when someone has their legs stretched out so far under your seat that they are actually touching my feet, that is where I draw the line.  And so began my 6 hour battle last night on my flight home from Seattle.

I was sitting in the middle seat, which it uncomfortable and tight to begin with.  There is nowhere to spread out nor can you lean too far to the left or to the right.  Most of the time you need to sit straight in the middle.  So here I am, sitting uncomfortably in the middle seat minding my own business when this guy behind me slides his feet under my seat and starts to touch my legs.  This made me slightly uncomfortable so I moved my legs slightly hoping that he would get the subtle hint that my legs were there and he would back off.  That did not work.  There was a time or six when his feet would come all the way under my seat to where I could see his shoes next to mine.  For the next few hours it was a war of his leg touches and my subtle hints. 

At one point, I pulled my legs back so hard and fast into his feet, hoping that he would get the message that he was invading my space but alas, he did not.  I finally had enough and I turned around in my seat and loudly said to him “Listen Larry Craig, I tried to be subtle about this footsie game you insist on playing with me.  I don’t swing that way.  Maybe you can try a bathroom stall when we land.”   With that, I spun back around and returned to my seat.

I could hear him behind me calling me an asshole and he had no idea and that what I had done was uncalled for and I could care less.  I made my point and he had stopped – for about an hour.  Then it started up all over again.  There was about an hour left of the flight and I really did not want to have another verbal exchange with this guy who was now just being spiteful. 

I reached down under the seat in front of me and pulled out my metallic silver Sharpie marker from my laptop bag.  While his feet were sticking out under my seat, I drew on his sneakers little happy faces, squiggle lines, a few choice words, etc…  At this point I figured I had my revenge and resigned myself to putting up with his rudeness until we landed. 

When the plane landed and we were ready to disembark.  Not once did I look at the guy or say another word to him.  I grabbed my bags and like everyone else I made my way into the terminal.  It was not until we were out of the jetway before I heard him exclaim “What the ****!”  I guess he noticed his sneakers.   By this time I had blended into the crowd. 

 With a big smile I made my way out of there and met my family who were picking me up.  When my wife asked me how my flight went I just smiled and answered great.