So, stop me if you’ve heard this before…
When my good friend, Richie Rich got married we went on a stag weekend to Dublin. Hooray!
When we went home, obviously I flew back separately from the rest of them. I got on the plane and the seats were quite narrow. Had I got bigger after 2 days of overindulgence? Quite possibly.
When I sat in the seat, the seat reclined, apparently automatically. I heard the man behind me grumble a bit. I hadn’t reclined it but it seemed to want to recline anyway. I leaned forward and the seat came up out of its reclined position. I leaned back. So did the seat.
The man grumbled.
I sat for the length of the flight in a state of nervous tension, trying to sit upright so that the seat woulnd’t recline. Towards the end of the flight I discovered that there was a button on the inside of the arms of the seat which caused it to recline. My fat thighs were pressing against the button. I tried to pull myself inwards a little. So now I was sitting with my back tense and my thighs tenser.
When the plane landed I disembarked.