Incredible shrinking airline seats

Flying these days is a bit like participating in an extreme sport.

Not because of the turbulence or the thrill of takeoff, but because of the increasingly impossible challenge of fitting into an airline seat.

Remember when boarding a plane was as simple as finding your seat and plopping down? Those days are long gone.

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Now, stepping onto an airplane feels like entering the final round of a Tetris championship, where your mission is to fit your body, your carry-on and your sanity into a space that defies the laws of physics.

You wedge your bag into the overhead bin, hoping it doesn’t explode open mid-flight like a jack-in-the-box of dirty laundry.

Then comes the real challenge: getting into your seat. You sidestep down the narrow aisle, past fellow passengers already squished into their seats and finally arrive at your row.

You take a deep breath and attempt to lower yourself into the minuscule space without knocking elbows with your neighbour.

Once seated, another battle begins – who will claim the armrest?

With seats barely wide enough for a toddler, this is no longer a matter of politeness but of survival.

You casually place your elbow on the armrest, only to have it subtly nudged off by your neighbour’s sharper, more determined elbow.

You play a little game of armrest chess, shifting, sliding, and adjusting, trying to stake your claim without starting a fullblown armrest war.

But let’s face it: in the end, no-one really wins. Both of you sit there, shoulders hunched and elbows awkwardly perched until the plane lands.

The tray table, a seemingly simple contraption that’s now an instrument of torture, drops down like a guillotine, slicing into the precious few inches of knee space you thought you had.

You try to make the best of it, gingerly placing your in-flight meal on the tray.

Then you discover that your elbows have no room to move, leaving you with the fine motor skills of a T-rex.

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The next irritation is the reclining seat – if you remain upright, the seat in front of you, if reclined, steals your space.

And if you do the same, the person behind you feels the same. Hence a passive-aggressive battle starts.

If until you need to use the bathroom, getting out of your seat requires the agility of a gymnast and the diplomacy of a seasoned negotiator.

Once you finally reach the bathroom, you contort your body into a tiny space before emerging sweaty and dishevelled.

And, as you leave the plane, you swear you’ll never fly again.