The Wall

Thwarting the Manspreader

Recently, I have been trying to put life’s petty challenges in perspective. Still, when tested, I sometimes revert to my old fussbudgety ways.

Case in point: flying back from Atlanta to Hartford, I was seated next to a strapping young fellow. Though only a recent graduate of adolescence, he manspread with confident impunity, usurping inches of my dedicated legroom in addition to the entirety of our shared abutting arm rest. I tried to express displeasure non-verbally via stink-eye, but his focus was fixed on his phone. This gave me no choice but to use the excellent book I am currently reading as boundary.

Horse by Geraldine Brooks is about 19th century pre-Civil War society, a thoroughbred horse named Lexington, and the shameful scourge of racism. Also, my copy happens to be hardcover, so when placed appropriately, it makes an effective block against limb drift. Doubling down on my refusal to yield personal space, I watched “Fifty First Dates”- a fluffy coattail-rider on the superior Sandler/Barrymore rom-com “The Wedding Singer”- instead of reading, since I had repurposed my book as a de facto shield.

Two hours later we landed. The lanky encroacher and I parted ways with nary a word exchanged.

To be honest, our tacit two-hour border skirmish took a lot out of me. As for my adversary, I bet he was too dumb to even know it was happening.

Of course there is a lesson here. While I would like to think this illustrates a victory for both my resourcefulness and tenacity, clearly, when it comes to getting over myself, I still have a lot of work to do.