Being fine with being confined

I've been on nine planes in the past thirty days. By my own reckoning, that qualifies me as an expert on air travel. I logged more time in airports during August than I spent in the office. I've been delayed and rerouted more often than not. And, despite this, I think air travel, for the most part, is okay. I'm okay with the extra bag fee, because I go entirely carry-on. I'm okay with the no-fluids rule, because I rely exclusively on hotel hand-outs. And I'm okay with the overbooked flights, because I am good at finding new flights. It's like a game of skill and deception that I play with multi-billion dollar companies.

But by far the cruelest joke the air travel industry plays on its travelers are the waiting areas by each gate. They are inordinately large. I typically take up five seats. One for me, one for my laptop, one for my suitcase and two just in case I need them. It is like my own bastion of personal space. And I'm not the only one who does this. We all abuse these seats. My favorite spot is the row of seats looking out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the tarmac. At the jetway. At the fragile tube of winged aluminum that, through a well-known miracle of aviation (called the "Bernoulli Effect"), will manage to fit all of the passengers in the waiting area.

I don't think airlines should give us the option of sitting in such opulence. I need a conditioning period. I cannot go from personal space Nirvana to being tickled on my nose by some guy's ear hair. It is a shock to the system, and one day it will kill someone. Like a cold pool, I need to ease myself into the controlled asphyxiation that is an airline cabin. Let me brush against an elbow. Let me hear a bit of labored, nasal whistling. Have me laugh awkwardly at an old lady's non-funny observation about weather and maple syrup.

I think Southwest is doing it right. They put you in corrals now before boarding your flight. This is a beneficial experience--the sooner you feel like livestock the better. Take two minutes at the beginning of the flight to introduce yourself to your seatmate. I recommend the following:

"Hi, my name is Bryan. For the next two hours we will inadvertently touch and bump each other in ways that, at altitudes less than 30,000 feet, would be construed as harassment. Please excuse me if I don't make eye contact with you when we deboard."