Premium Seat

It was worth it to pay that extra 25 dollars to get a premium seat with extra leg room. These short-haul flights were notorious for packing as many passengers in as possible. Yusuf stretched his legs out in front of him, luxuriating in the space at his disposal. The only problem was the insistent pressure of eyes on him. It was a very uncomfortable weight.

This was supposed to be his relaxing weekend back home away from the grind of punching in code and dealing with managers who just did not understand. From the perspective of a manager, it was always about time efficiency. They use that word like a whip: efficiency, efficiency, efficiency; if not, it's deadline, deadline, deadline.

Yusuf was very efficient in the way he managed his time and his work; that's why he was taking a vacation in the middle of a big project because what were they gonna do to him? He chuckled at the thought. He was the project lead for the new big-ticket client, and luckily for him, he knew the client personally. Some kid in his computer engineering class who made it big. That had been his dream and it still was, but he had other priorities now. His family. Who he was going to see in Edmonton, Alberta for a big family reunion—rather, it was his brother's third wedding. The other two just didn't work out. Big brother was just really unlucky in love.

What was that guy's problem! He was still staring. Yusuf had just gotten on the plane; he could guarantee he'd not done anything offensive, yet.

It didn't take very long to find out why when the gentleman clumped up towards him to try and loom over him.

The interloper was unfortunately more wide than he was tall. His face was scrunched up; he appeared unpleasant in his entitlement. However, he had a big blue cast cutting further into his insubstantial height and corresponding crutches in his arms.

Ah, Yusuf thought. He was another one of those passengers that would buy the cheapest seat with the hope of a free upgrade afterwards. At the expense of another. Yusuf wouldn't be that person today.

"Can I help you?"

"Yeah, I need a seat." He lifted a crutch, as if it could go unnoticed.

"Yes...and...you have one assigned to you. This is mine." He tapped his armrest.

The man's face scrunched up and reddened. He didn't move away; rather, he made to sit...on him.

"Hey man! Get off!"

His shouting and shoving drew the attention of neighboring passengers. Those seated and those making their own way to their seats with hand luggage in tow.

The commotion pulled an attendant to his corner of the plane rather speedily.

The female attendant walked into his sight looking exasperated. Mouth pressed tight into the beginning of a frown before forcefully relaxing into a smile that did not reach her eyes.

"Please sit in your assigned seats, gentlemen," she said with a pleasant smile.

Yusuf couldn't understand how this situation warranted a customer service smile.

He pushed against the man sitting on him again.

"This is my seat, 2A. I'm not switching!"

The heavy-set man bounced on him, causing his bones to rattle.

"I've got a broken leg; my doctor told me I have to stretch it out. I need the room."

Yusuf had some minor level of sympathy, but he'd still paid for his spot.

The attendant sighed like she was not prepared to deal with troublesome toddlers this early in the day. Then:

"Help! He's choking. Someone help."

"Look. Sort it out," she said while looking behind her into the swarm of bodies. She left them be.

Yusuf was not impressed; she wasn't the only attendant on the plane. He suspected she just didn't want to deal with the headache.

"Get off me, you whale! I'll switch." Yusuf murmured some quiet derogatory terms in Somali before leaping to his feet.

"15D, window seat," was the man's parting shot, as if he was doing him a favor, not the other way around.

He stomped his way down the narrow aisle, making eye contact with the attendant on his way. She was five rows ahead of him.

He hated being taken advantage of, but the entitlement of other people was not a thing he could combat alone, especially when all he wanted was for this flight to be over and to eat his mom's food. She had told him they would be making his favorite today. It was just pasta and Bolognese, but his mom made it special.

The bitterness of having lost what was his followed him all the way to 15D. He'd stare out the window and imagine that man's gruesome plummet to his demise.

"Don't worry about it. Peopleare absolute jerks sometimes."

Yusuf turned to face his seatmate. He was a man with silver-streaked dark hair pulled into a neat ponytail, and sharp eyes that took everything in.

"I saw that." He nodded towards the front. "Guy didn't even have a medical note, he just wanted what wasn't his."

"How'd you know that?" Yusuf asked, curiosity momentarily overcoming his bad mood.

He shrugged. "Body language. The way he avoided eye contact. I notice things." Yusuf hummed to himself at that.

He thought maybe his luck had changed , but five minutes after takeoff, the cabin lights flickered.

Then again.

Then went out completely, replaced by the harsh glow of emergency lights.

The plane dropped suddenly, sending Yusuf's stomach into his throat. Screams erupted as the oxygen masks deployed with a mechanical hiss.

"Put your mask on," his seatmate said calmly, while securing his own. His hands didn't shake at all. "Breathe normally."

The turbulence intensified.

The plane shuddered.

A bag flew from an overhead compartment, narrowly missing a passenger's head.

"Aren't you scared?" Yusuf gasped as he white-knuckled the armrests.

"Fear doesn't help survival," The man beside him replied, voice steady despite the chaos. "You know what's interesting about situations like this? How quickly entitlement disappears. All those artificial hierarchies; first class, business class, all suddenly meaningless."

The plane dropped again, more screams.

"If we don't make it," Yusuf found himself saying, "I'd regret never telling my brother how proud I was of him. Three tries at marriage, that takes courage."

His seatmate nodded. "I'd regret not seeing my daughter graduate next month. First in the family to get a Ph.D."

"You don't seem like someone with many regrets," Yusuf observed, trying to keep his voice steady through the juddering.

He laughed, a surprisingly warm sound amid the emergency lights and fear. "I've had my share. Spent fifteen years with international security working anti-piracy operations off the Somali coast. Missed a lot of birthdays."

"Wait... you worked against Somali pirates?" Yusuf's eyes widened.

"Among other things. Heard you speaking Somali earlier. Any family from there?"

"My parents immigrated in the 90s," he nodded. "I was born here though."

The captain's voice crackled over the intercom, announcing they were returning to Calgary due to mechanical issues but were stabilizing. The worst turbulence subsided.

"Looks like you'll make your brother's wedding after all," he said, relief evident in his smile.

As they disembarked in Calgary fifteen minutes later, Yusuf hesitated, then pulled out his phone. "I know this is weird, but would you want to grab coffee sometime? I'd love to hear more about your work."

He took his phone, entering his number. "Aaron," he said, offering his hand.

"Yusuf," he replied, taking it.

"Sometimes," Aaron said, "the universe puts us exactly where we need to be, premium seat or not."