Seatmates: the unspoken flying hazard

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This post about the seatmate from h*ll cracked me up. We've all been there, right?

It reminds me a little of my recent flight back from a meeting in Chicago. The plane was almost fully loaded and I was gloating just a bit about having an empty middle seat next to me. Then who comes down the aisle clutching a ticket for the seat next to me but a woman I had lunch with the day before at the conference. She was nice and all, but we both had that look in our eyes of "oh no, I'm totally exhausted and sick of talking with people, but I have to make nice with this person because I sort of know her.'"

We both made sure the other saw our books in hand, chatted for a few minutes, then got rolling and had a great conversation the whole two hours back to Boston. We both admitted we had that dread when we first saw each other, and that it had been the best plane conversation either of us had had in a long time.

But it so easily could have gone the way of Terminal Man, Shauna, and the chihuahua...

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