So I boarded my plane back to Indianapolis yesterday. I'm walking down the aisle to what I thought was my seat (in an exit row), and someone was in it. I said, "Excuse me, but I think you might be in my seat, or I'm reading my ticket incorrectly." The woman said she knew she was in the wrong seat, but that she and her spouse got separated, and she asked if I wouldn't mind switching. No problem with me, so across the aisle I went.

I climb over the guy with the aisle seat across from where I was supposed to be and settle in to my window seat. The man (heavier set and probably about 50 years old) and I engage in small talk...He lives in Anderson, I'm in law school, etc. A silence falls and I begin reading cases and articles for my law review paper.

Our plane starts to back out from the gate. I keep reading. We approach the runway, and I start to get my usual uneasy feeling. The captain alerts us that we are third for takeoff. I start to get really nervous. Once we start hurling down the runway, I can't read anymore, I grip my hands together, and start to breath heavier. We are no longer touching the ground (the part I really hate), and the man next to me leans over and asks if I'm scared of flying. Thinking that there is a very obvious answer to this question, I politely tell him that indeed I am, but it's only takeoff, and I'll be fine in a few minutes.

Thinking that our discussion of this matter is over, I go back to my breathing. All of the sudden I feel this hand over my clasped hands and a hand on my shoulder. I'm at a loss for words. Why does this guy think he can invade my personal space? Is he just being nice? I literally can say nothing. I glance over at the book he was reading and it is about Haitian mission trips. For some odd reason, it makes me feel a little better that this guy is religious. I'm sure there are sickos that have read the same book, but I played the odds that this guy was just trying to make me feel better. Plus, I figured, what's the worst that could happen? He grabs something he shouldn't, I break his hand and scream, and half the plane pounces on him. I was in no real danger.

He keeps saying, "It's OK, it's OK." After what seemed like an eternity, I finally look at him and say, "I'm OK now. Thank you." He releases his grips and leans back in his chair. He asks, "Have you ever tried prayer?" I informed him that I indeed pray, but that I was sure God had a few better things to do than get me through this takeoff. He says, "No. You are wrong. God doesn't want you to be scared and God likes it when you call upon him, no matter why you do."

I tell him that he has a point--partly because I see his point, but partly because I felt a but weird talking about religion with a total stranger. The conversation fades, and he leans his chair back to sleep.

Overall, I believe in my gut that this guy was trying to be nice and comfort me. Do I wish he would have asked before touching me? YES. But maybe I should try his way next time.

Posted by: Lawrenkm at 09:50 PM | No Comments | Add Comment
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