Waiting to board a flight back to Denver a few years back, I saw trouble lumber onto the concourse.
He was an oblate spheroid of a man, his belt sitting just above the equator and tighter than Joan Rivers’ face, and I just knew he’d be my seat mate. Fortunately, he ended up seated far from my back-row perch. Whew.
My relief faded, though, once I saw my seat mate. With the arm rest already up, she spilled over into my seat.
I snuggled in for a four-hour flight, the warmth from her decorative Christmas sweater baking my shoulder and arm. I never once thought of complaining. What would I say?
I’m not a small guy myself, but more of an oblong spheroid. At 6 foot 3, I’m the guy whose knees knock into your back whenever you try to recline your seat. I wore “husky”-sized Garanimals as a kid.
Some passengers may not want to sit next to me, but I do fit into my seat and can pull the lap belt snug over my middle-aged girth.
But as Americans get fatter — the Centers for Disease Control says we’re fatter than ever, with more than a third of us obese — cramped quarters on airplanes are becoming more commonplace.
Earlier this month, United Airlines, the largest carrier at Denver International Airport, announced that “passengers requiring extra space” would need to pay for an extra seat, or wait for a flight with extra seating available. The severely overweight will be bumped from sold-out flights.
The policy isn’t too different from what other airlines require. Yet few follow through. How can they? Short of measuring the waistlines of passengers as they board, or forcing an obese traveler to endure a walk of shame off the plane, the rules are difficult to enforce.
United says if a passenger can’t comfortably put down the arm rests, he could be forced to pay for a second seat or wait for a more accommodating flight.
And that raises another issue: Our extra breadth is often accommodated these days, which may be part of the problem. The seats at Invesco Field, for example, are an inch wider than the seats at the old Mile High to fit our expanding backsides. Movie theater seats are about 3 inches wider than airline seats. Clothing sizes are larger. Jeans are relaxed fit. And furniture keeps getting plumper.
But as airlines struggle to stay afloat financially, they have crammed in more seats, reduced space between seats and packed flights. They’re not going to add super-sized seating anytime soon.
A caller to KOA recently said he buys two tickets whenever he travels, to avoid spilling into his neighbor’s lap. As much as you hate flying next to the fat guy, he said, heavy folks dislike it even more and dread the stares and exasperated sighs from their travel partners.
If more people were as conscientious, or could afford it, there would be no problem. Airlines might consider offering discounted second seats to the obese. (Many will refund the purchase of a second seat if the flight isn’t full.)
United fielded 700 complaints last year from passengers who had lousy flights because they were “impinged on” by their seat mate.
Flying already is a hassle, and struggling airlines need to be sympathetic to the concerns of the majority of their passengers. Besides, I don’t think it’s discriminatory to ask someone to pay for two seats if that’s what they need. It’s reality.
As my cozy flight back to Denver began to descend, the woman next to me began to talk to the man seated directly in front of her. It was her husband. Apparently, even he didn’t want to sit by her. (I gladly would have switched seats had anyone asked.)
It sounds cruel, but if your own family won’t squeeze in next to you, you need to buy a second seat — regardless of the rules.
Editorial page editor Dan Haley can be reached at dhaley@denverpost.com
