Jump Seat Riding

Our luck was bound to run out soon. From the moment we walked into the Orlando airport and saw a sea of Brits decked out in Mickey ears and I heart Universal Studios t-shirts lining up to go back to London, I knew this wasn’t going to be as easy or as amazingly glamorous as our flight over…

After what seemed like hours of waiting in line we made it to the desk to hear the dreaded “All flights are completely overbooked” to be muttered out of the Virgin girls lips. And with this news we went on a mad dash running from the Virgin desk to the BA desk desperately trying to be squeezed onto a plane back to good ole England. After lugging our six 50 pound bags from the Virgin desk, through the food court, (which was torture because at this point I was starving and could only think about stuffing my face with a Chick- Fil-A number one with Polynesian sauce) and over to the BA check in counter about 6 times to only be confirmed that neither airline had even a single seat available on either of their planes. I was sure there was no way we would get back home tonight, so I left Andy at the desk and sat with my mom, my life’s belongings, forgot about getting back, and instead calmed myself with my much anticipated Chick-Fil-A!

After filling my belly and being able to put my concentration back on how we were to get home, instead of when and what I was going to eat, I joined Andy back at the customer service desk to be updated on our flight situation. As I walked up I saw Andy filling out paper work and was sure this was a good sign! I immediately and excitedly asked, “Did we get seats?” The answer I got was, “Well sort of… We have put in jump seat request forms and if the pilot accepts them than we have jump seats.” Hmmmmm this should be a very very interesting fight!

After the captain agreed to allow us to fly home via jump seats, we ran to our gate waited until all the screaming babies, rowdy kids, and grown adults wearing head to toe Disney paraphernalia boarded the plane. A flight attendant then escorted us onto the plane, but not after they took out ticket and with sympathetic eyes said, “Oh… jumps seats.” She led us up the magical stairs of luxury premium economy when the thought ‘this can’t be too bad’ popped into my head after remembering my experience in the realm of business class, to only be quickly wiped from my train of thought when shown out seats at the top of the stairs. I am not even sure if seats are an accurate description of what we were to be sitting in for the next 9 hours. Tucked away in a little corner at the very top of the stairs in peaceful business class are two tiny blue leather fold down seats. Most people may not even notice these two seats because they blend in with the back of the wall. As I pulled down the connected bench like seat, keeping one hand pressed down on the flimsy bench to ensure it didn’t snap back up, I managed to get myself sat down. This is when I realized I would be sitting at a ninety-degree angle on what felt like a lightly padded piece of small plywood with one of my butt cheeks hanging off the side to make room for my lover.

As the very privileged other passengers curled up into their oversized seats as they sipped on a glass of champagne the flight attendant served them before take off, Andy and I were escorted to other jump seats for our take off. I was taken to the front of the plane while Andy was taken to a fold down seat at the back. As I sat down a flight attendant asked if I had ever ridden in jump seats before, to which I nervously answered, “No.” He then flashed me a smile and said not to worry but there were a few things I needed to know before we took off. Before I could even grasp the thought that I might possibly have to do something, he was rattling off safety procedures for if the plane crashed! He quickly began to go through my long list of possible responsibilities as I tried to remember my first task of pulling the white tape before pushing open the emergency exit or maybe it was push the door then pull the tape. And the second I was able to tune back in he said, “Andy lastly don’t forget your oxygen back while you swiftly exit the passengers.” YIKES! By the time he was done with all these rules, responsibilities, and directions I decided it probably wasn’t the best time to tell him I do not react very well in high tense emergency situations! To the relief of me, and the other passengers, the plane took of as normal and I returned to my assigned jump seat.

By the time dinner was served I was thanking God I demanded we get Chick- Fil- A in the airport. As I watched the dinner tray slowly make its way down the aisle towards our tiny corner seats my mouth was watering at the dinner options they were describing to the lucky paying passengers. I had already decided I was going to have the grilled chicken with steamed green beans and buttery mashed potatoes. However, that scrumptious dinner cart rolled right past us back into the galley and we were handed a lap trey with an assortment of breakfast yogurt and crackers with the reject vegetarian dinner. After picking at my dinner, not sure if I didn’t eat it because it was bad or just too hard to hold a large trey in my lap while sliding off the almost non existent seat, I decided I would try to get some sleep. I took about two hours of wiggling, shifting, and annoying Andy for him to leave our seat and curl up on the floor. There we were for the next 5 hours; me with my legs dangling in the aisle, half my body on the seat, and my head stretched out resting on a side storage compartment while my husband curled into a little ball on the floor behind the black netting of the staff storage closet.