#coach class

The economy has tanked for most, and this is most evident with air travel. 

"Airline seating may be the best concrete expression of what’s happened to the economy in recent decades," Harold Meyerson, columnist for the Washington Post.

In other words, flying coach SUCKS, and first class is AWESOME. 

However, this overall economic trend has been going on forever, and will NOT be reversed any time soon.  Also, if you are one of those waiting for that "White Knight" or Deus Ex Machina solution (e.g: government, grant, bailout), then you are going to be severely disappointed. 

I would go out on a limb and say that no one who regularly flies coach class on a plane actually enjoys it. Even the conditions in first class are less than desirable, but coach? For those that have never stepped on a plane before (you should, but no rush), coach class is like sitting on a bench made for two, but with three people sitting on it. Two plastic armrests are the only things keeping you from becoming very friendly with the rear ends of the people seated next to you. Did I mention that you can only access your seat from the side? This also means legroom is but a dream. The bench in front of you will ensure that you have only enough room to fit your legs under, that is, if that space isn't already occupied by your carry-on bag. Otherwise, have fun with your legs bent awkwardly, knees hitting the bottom of your flimsy, plastic tray table that somehow remains small enough that it is absolutely useless for placing a computer or book on, but large enough that leaving it open impedes movement. Feeling claustrophobic yet? Wait until you arrive at the gate after the flight is over, and the plane docks for exit. They shut down the air conditioning, everyone stands up, and suddenly there's even less space than there used to be. Not only that, but it feels like the aluminum shell that is the plane is heating up like a sauna to suffocate you before the doors of the plane have a chance to open.

There are very few things to enjoy about flying coach. Even the airline staff acknowledge it. They share in the same cramped conditions as the passengers. Even if it is their job, they still understand how the coach class feels.

When I printed my boarding pass for my returning flight from Orlando to Newark, I noticed right away that I was separated from my family. Naturally, the plane housing two sides of three seats couldn't support four. Unfortunately, I was not across from them in the same numeric row, 38, but one row back in 39. It didn't really bother me; I don't mind sitting alone. My parents aren't great fliers. They get very stressed over turbulence. I can understand why, but I can't say that it's enjoyable to be in the presence of. My brother is often irritable on flights, and goes out of the way to ensure that I'm disturbed at every moment. Sitting a row behind them might be alright.

My family sat in their row while I waited for the people in front of me to get situated in their row. I noticed that a man was talking to the flight attendant with a concerned look on his face. It was obvious that that child and young woman in the row already were his own family, and he very much wanted to sit with them. Before their conversation ended, I interjected, letting the man know I would trade my seat with him. He was delighted, and thanked me, as did the flight attendant, who showed me where I would be sitting.

Row 40 was the back of the plane. No reclining seats, and next to the bathroom, where lines would frequently form along with the lavatory aromas. I had the middle seat on the left side. Still, I wasn't too concerned. I hadn't planned on being comfortable, so the relocation was hardly a setback. One of the three seats was still empty during boarding. I was anticipating who would later occupy it.

Minutes later, two young girls, clad in Disney apparel, make their way to the remaining seats in row 40. One of them was assigned to the remaining seat next to me, the other to the opposite side. When they looked at the remaining seats, it was obvious they were disappointed. Once again, I offered to move. Their faces lit up. I never thought I would see another set of happy faces like the family I helped earlier on the same flight. Moving for the second time was almost pleasant.

The girls thanked me once more. I insisted that it was no problem, and settled into my third location. The flight attendant, somewhat orchestrating the change of seats, tapped me on the shoulder. I was graciously thanked once more and provided with my choice of anything on their in-flight menu. I willingly accepted the offer and made my pick. The food was a mere bonus. I was more overjoyed with how good it felt to make a small sacrifice for complete strangers, and have it returned with the most sincere gratitude. The family with the small child were silent amongst one-another on the flight, with not a cry from the infant at any point. The girls chatted amongst one another, and remained relatively calm and collected when unexpected turbulence hit the aircraft hard. Had I not changed my seats for these two parties, the flight not only would have been less enjoyable for the, but possibly the surrounding passengers.