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I flew to Vegas on a small "regional jet". You know, the kind of plane that's so small even your standard carry-on has to be checked at the gate. I always get an aisle seat. I'm borderline phobic about being smooshed into the window seat where the only way out is by crawling over virtual strangers.
These jets have four seats across--two and two. My seatmate was a seemingly nice young man but as we settled in and buckled our seat belts I remembered why I don't like to sit by men. They Sprawl. Why do men feel the need to sit with their legs so far apart? Are they trying to send the message that they are more well endowed than they really are? I'll bet even Ron Jeremy doesn't need that much room! Or maybe the boys just need to be aired so they don't get moldy? Maybe men just feel intitled to more leg room because they're men! Who knows?
Being the owner of a pair of stunningly long legs I need all the room I can get. I beat this guy's inseam by a good six inches. If I had taken my fair share of leg room we would have been intimately rubbing thighs for two hours. And since I never rub thighs with strangers I was forced to sit with my knees locked together and facing the aisle while Mr. Big sprawled. Next time I'll bet a quick grab and twist would give me some leg room. Let the sprawlers be warned. Gimme some room or you'll be singing soprano for a while.