Not an Honest Mistake
One time, I was flying out of Heathrow back to my native Belfast. I was in an aisle seat, and there was a guy behind me who was digging his knees into my back.
Now, I get it, it’s not comfortable on a plane, but there are ways and means. If you have long legs, put your baggage in the locker and use the space under the seat ahead to stretch out.
Or y’know, move your legs so they’re not digging into the spine of the person ahead of you, and pay attention to the beverage cart.
At first, I thought it was an honest mistake, so I put my hand behind my back so he would realize that he was digging his knees into a person. This worked briefly, but soon I felt that kneecap back between my vertebrae.
Hand goes back, knee moves, hand moves, knee goes back. This carries on for about ten minutes. Finally, I’ve had enough. I move my hand away and wait for the inevitable kneecap.
Kneecap arrives. I put my hand back, grab the knee through the seat, and I squeezed as hard as I could, using my best guess as to the pressure points. The knee goes away and does not return. I tried not to make eye contact as we were disembarking.
He was an ordinary-looking bloke, not too tall, not too fat. Guess he just really wanted to put his knees in my back? cradleofdata