I hate flying.  Is that too much of a modern, first world problem?  I mean, when you really think about it, it’s a technological marvel: soaring through the air, several miles off the ground, traveling at hundreds of miles per hour.  Our ancestors would be flabbergasted if they discovered anyone complaining about such a miracle.

Of course, my ancestors were still running for their lives, hiding under foliage, trying to not get hunted down by beasts one hundred times their size.  The greater shock for them would be that we would willingly place ourselves in the same flying metal tube as the very beasts we were engaged in war with for centuries!  Now, we don’t really think of them as beasts or monsters anymore.  (That’s not politically correct.)  After all, they’re physiologically the same as us apart from the size differential.  Still, when someone towers over you by hundreds of feet, it’s hard not to think of them as anything but behemoth creatures.

It’s the 21st century.  Times have changed!  The war is over and now we all live together in peace and harmony.  It has taken some time for the feelings to cool, but we have found a way to coexist and I think we can all agree that it’s for the better.  Now, we Parvians can commiserate and complain alongside the Magnians about the traffic on the way to the office, the weather, and the absence of quality movies on Netflix.

Oh, and air travel.  It doesn’t matter what size you are.  That’s something we can agree on: flying sucks.  This is especially true of airport security.  There’s no way a Magnian can give a Parvian a pat-down that doesn’t feel like their finger is an NFL linebacker.  And I’m not sure who has it worse: the Magnian who has to lay down right in the middle of the airport to have a Parvian inspect them, or the Parvian security agent crawling all over a giant stranger’s body looking for contraband.

Fortunately, I was able to move right through security this morning.  I waited at the gate, charging my phone and pretending to work on my laptop while actually people watching.  It's fascinating to see the menagerie of people that are brought together by the common goal of getting from point A to point B as quickly as possible.  I had a good view of the terminal from my seat there at the Parvian stand at gate B16.  Boarding wasn't for half an hour, but it already looked like it would be a full flight.  Joining me were fellow Parvos, including a mother with a crying baby that I prayed would not sit next to me, a Parvian soldier on his way home, and a few college students wearing pajama pants and hooded sweatshirts with their educational institution’s branding.  The Mags were a similar selection, though very thankfully there were no Magnian babies.  I would rather walk barefoot backwards to my destination than fly with a toddler screaming because a tooth the size of my right leg was erupting in its gums.

As I browsed through a series of inane tweets and Facebook statuses, I heard the voice over the PA call my name:

“Passenger Benjamin Jackson, please come to desk B16 immediately.”

Great, I muttered under my breath.  Maybe I was getting a free upgrade to first class?  I somehow doubted it.  Gathering my belongings, I made my way to the Parvian gate agent.

“This is Ben Jackson.  What's up?”

“I'm sorry, sir.  There's been a little mix up in our system.”

My eyes furrowed.  “Excuse me?  What kind of mix up?”

“There was a problem with our seat assignment software.  You are not in seat 24A...”

Awesome!  I thought.  Maybe I am getting an upgrade!

The woman continued.  “...in the Parvian section.”

I stared at her perplexed, until I realize what the “mix up” really was.  “You mean…”

The gate agent avoided eye contact, staring instead at her computer screen.  “Unfortunately, the system thought you were a Magnian, so you were assigned seat 24A in the Magnian section.”

“Well, can’t you fix it?!”

“Unfortunately, the whole Parvian section is booked full.  You can fly standby, but you would be number 15 on the list…”

“Fifteen?!  No, I’ll keep the damn seat!”  I huffed in frustration.  I needed to be on this flight.  There was no way I was waiting any longer.  I needed to be home.

“One of our Magnian flight attendants will be assisting you today.  Thank you for flying Gamma Airlines!” she said with a faux cheerful smile.

The Parvian gate agent said something into her radio and a few moments later, a Magnian woman wearing a flight attendant’s uniform made her way to the Parvian box.  Per the occupational requirements, she was relatively tall.  Our platform only came up to her chest, allowing her head to easily peer down at us.

“Mr. Jackson?  My name is Melanie!  I’m so sorry about that little mishap, but I’ll make sure you get to your seat just fine.  Please climb aboard!” she said cheerily, holding the palm of her hand out.

I sighed and complied, not even saying goodbye to the gate agent.  I picked up my carry-on and walked onto the outstretched hand.  It smelled and felt like she had recently applied lotion.  Her skin was soft, but a little oily.  I chose not to use my luggage’s wheels.  It would be better for both of us.

“You should know that all of the Magnian seats are also equipped with Parvian seatbelts, in the event that a Parvian is traveling with a Magnian.  So don’t worry: you won’t be flying around the cabin when there’s turbulence!  And also, we’re upgrading you to priority boarding.  If you’re ready, I’ll take you aboard right now!”

There was a noticeable temperature difference as the flight attendant made her way down the jet bridge towards the plane.  It was a good thing that I had brought my jacket.  Melanie continued walking with her face unchanging, a professional smile never leaving.  I knew that the cheerfulness was all a part of her job, but at least she was good at it.  Even if it was half-hearted, other flight attendants don’t even bother and make it very clear that they really just don’t care.  

It had been a couple of years since I had flown.  I was taken aback at how cavernous the interior of the airplane was.  From a Parvian perspective, it was the size of not just one, but multiple hangars.  Of course, the Magnians still complain about being cramped.  Parvians could still relate.  Melanie and I passed the small section near the front of the aircraft where the Parvian passengers are seated.  From their perspective, we only took up a couple of tray tables.  Still, the airlines still manage to pack us in like sardines.  I was a little thankful that I would actually have room to not only stretch my legs, but run laps if I chose to do so!

When we did arrive at seat 24A (of the Magnian section), I was gently plopped from Melanie’s hand onto the fabric-covered aluminum frame that was to be my home for the next four hours.  At least it was a window seat--not that I could see out of it.  I decided to keep my luggage with me, fearing that if it were placed in the overhead storage, it would never be found again.  Besides, the seat was more spacious than my apartment’s living room.  I found the Parvian seatbelt at the base of the seat in between its Magnian-sized counterpart.  Melanie was true to her word.

Melanie, as it were, had completely disappeared.  As soon as she was done with her assignment, she had moved on to her next appointed task.  I could see her off in the distance quickly helping other passengers with their luggage and directing people to their seats.  I didn’t need her help anyway and I certainly didn’t want her hovering over me as if I were a child traveling alone.  

Normally, I would pretend to be interested in the reading material in the seat pocket in front of me, but considering that it was across the vast chasm in front of me and the letters would have been in size 1,200 font, I decided not to bother.  I chose to pass the time on my phone, taking advantage of my data plan before I had to enable airplane mode.

It appeared that I had the whole two seats on that row to myself.  I was near the very back of the aircraft and most of the Magnians were stopping in the rows ahead of me.  I certainly wouldn’t mind not having anyone sitting next to me.  My odds of success were that I would get a fat old man who snored loudly as a neighbor.  However, just as I was anticipating the final boarding to finish and for the plane to start taxiing to the runway, one last Magnian passenger rushed on board.

“You almost didn’t make it!” I heard one of the flight attendants say.  “We were just about to close the doors.”

The young woman’s long curly hair was in disarray and she was breathing heavily.  “I know!  I had to rush here from Terminal D!  I’m so, so glad you were still here!”

Soon, she had made her way to the back of the plane to row 24.  It didn’t appear that she had much with her apart from her small backpack.  She didn’t even have a jacket or coat, just a light sweatshirt and yoga pants.  She glanced down at her boarding pass and rechecked her seat assignment.

“Let’s see here...24B.”

The odds had been in my favor!  She was far prettier than any other person I have had to sit next to.  I had always figured that most women like her would only be found in first class.  Even if I couldn’t see out the window, at least I would have some pretty scenery to look at during the flight…

Catching her breath, she looked around the cabin.  She was the only one left standing.  For her, this was fortuitous.  For me, it was not so much.

“Oooh, an open window seat!  Well, I might as well…”

“Uh, excuse me--” I tried to shout, but it was too late.

She shimmied down the row until she was right in front of seat 24A.  My seat.  The seat that I was presently occupying!

And she sat down.

My mouth gaped in silence.  I knew that there was nothing that I could do, so I might as well just watch the fates unfold.  Fate, in this particular circumstance, looked a lot like a young woman’s yoga-pant-clad posterior enveloping my entire range of vision as it came crashing down upon me.  I couldn’t even escape if I tried, since I had already fastened my seatbelt and didn’t have the mental awareness needed to unbuckle it quickly.  I just sat and watched as I became acquainted with one gigantic Magnian ass.

This was going to be a long flight.  

My life was saved by my position on the seat, which placed me near the small of her back rather than directly below her.  As such, I was spared the full brunt of her weight, which surely would have turned me into Parvian jelly.  (We are a quite hardy and durable race, but even we have our limits.)  Still, as she wiggled and worked to get comfortable and buckled her seatbelt, her buttocks pressed against my whole body, sandwiching me between her ample flesh and the polyurethane padding of the chair.  She was stiflingly warm, like due to her elevated heart rate from her recent sprint.  I craned my neck to the heavens, desperate to get air into my lungs.

At any moment, I prayed that Melanie or one of the other flight attendants would come back here, remember me and my situation, and rescue me from my predicament.  Those hopes were dashed when I heard the voice on the intercom giving the same safety speech I had heard numerous times.  What I would give for one of those oxygen masks right now!  That was soon followed by the rumbling of the jet engines.  I could feel the inertia in my gut.  We were taking off.  I was on my own.

The plane jostled about as it rose through layers of clouds and turbulent air.  The one flip side was that I was pretty secure and wasn't going anywhere.  I could barely feel the shakes and quakes of the cabin.  I could also barely feel my legs….  Hopefully, we would reach cruising altitude soon.  Maybe my co-passenger would need to get up to stretch her legs, go to the bathroom, or something!

Finally, a ding sounded, indicating that the “fasten seatbelts” light was now off and that we were now free to roam about the cabin.  What I would give for that freedom!  I thrashed around, but it was useless.  This young woman, probably no older than twenty years old, had left me helplessly pinned and wasn't even aware of my existence.  

I gave up.  As strange as it was, at least I was a little comfortable.  My legs were trapped under her body, but my upper torso and head were up against her lower back, cushioned by the elastic band of her yoga pants.  If this were how I was to spend the next four hours, then so be it.  It could be far worse.  The warmth, the sounds of the plane, and even the sounds coming from deep within her body lulled me into a sense of ease.  I had considered getting my MP3 player out, but I soon realized that it was in my carry-on, which was nowhere to be seen.  I feared the worst.  At least it was mostly clothes.  Nothing too fragile or valuable.  Good thing I left my decorative egg set at home.

After a few minutes, the girl started shuffling again, but this time, I was given some unexpected elbow room!  She leaned forward to reach below the seat in front of us and rummaged through her bag.  This action lifted her ass off of me enough that I could very quickly undo my seatbelt and stand up.  My own bag, as I had predicted, had been crushed and crumpled underneath her.  I did not dare to run over to it, lest I run out of time and be permanently joined with my suitcase.  Instead, I dashed over the other adjoining seat as quickly as I could.  She could have the window seat!  I didn’t care!  It certainly wasn’t something that I would risk my life over.  I could just as easily fasten myself into the Parvian seatbelt of 24B.

Yet another plan was foiled by fate.  I had escaped just in time to avoid her leaning back again, but it turned out that the Magnian girl had extracted her backpack from down below and had every intentions of placing it in the seat right next to her.  My seat.  Seat 24B.  I could understand why she was doing what she was doing.  It would be much more convenient for her to access her things.  And to her knowledge, no one else would mind.  No one...apart from the Parvian desperately trying to predict her movements and evade having a backpack the size of a small house land on top of him like the Wicked Witch of the East.  I zigged and zagged around the seat, the shadow of her Camelbak® looming above me.  It came to its final resting place square in the middle of seat 24B, leaning against the back of the chair and completely blocking me from my seat belt.  Shortly thereafter, a light blue parachute-sized garment fell out of the sky and draped itself over the bag.  She had removed her sweatshirt, revealing a dark black tank top underneath.

I thought that perhaps I could forgo the restraints altogether.  What’s the worst that could happen?  I imagined that scenario.  Things would go just fine...for a while.  Then we would hit a patch of turbulence.  It would only be enough to maybe knock me down or to the side.  But what if it was something more?  The airplane would shake like San Francisco in 1906.  Everyone would brace themselves as we went through a cumulonimbus cloud.  They would be too busy securing themselves to notice a small little Parvian man flying around the cabin, bouncing between the overhead bins and the floor like a pinball.

No, thanks.  I believe in safety first.  I was going to get my seat back.  Either the window or the aisle—I didn't care.  This Magnian girl was going to have to give one up.  But first, I would have to get her attention.  Normally, this would be as easy as shouting, “Hey you!”  We Parvians can be pretty loud.  (Ain't no party like a Parvian party, ‘cause a Parvian party...wakes up all the neighbors.)  Still, even if I had access to my phone’s voice amplifier, she still wouldn't hear me: she was wearing headphones.

A swift kick to her thigh.  No reaction.  An attempted pinch.  Her skin was too tight.  A tickle would have been suicidal.  The only response to my efforts was her reclining her seat and shutting her eyes.  Was she mocking me?  It seemed that I would need to roll my sleeves up and get to work.

I scanned my neighbor up and down, analyzing possible paths of ascent.  This wasn't my first rodeo, or first Magnian to climb.  Parvians are naturally skilled climbers and by the time we reach adulthood, we are all veteran Magnian mountaineers.  (I remember my first time when I made it to Suzie Hutchins’ pigtails.  I managed to tie them together in the middle of a math class before she even noticed I was on her.  It cost me three days of detention, but it was worth it.)  It was too risky to climb straight up the front.  There are too many obstacles, especially on the more “endowed” women, of which this young lady certainly would qualify.  That little tank top wasn't concealing too many secrets. Though that route was sorely tempting, I wanted to gain her attention, not her anger.

Looks like it was going to be the headphones.  Dangling from each ear, they joined below the Magnian’s head to form one cable leading down to the iPod resting in her backpack.  It was perfect: a direct line from where I was to where I needed to go.  All I needed to do was to start climbing.  Grabbing the cord in each hand, I started my ascent.  

“Alright, Miss Magna seat stealer,” I said under my breath.  “I'm coming for you!”

I wish I were heavier.  My mother always told me I needed to eat more.  I just was never that hungry.  While it made climbing easier, I imagined that if I weighed more than three paperclips, I could have just yanked the earbud out of the Magnian girl's ear.  C’est la vie.

I wrapped my legs around the headphone cord and shimmied upwards head first.  The world of the airplane cabin looked stranger upside down, especially the view outside the window with blue skies below the wing and clouds above.  Soon, I had made it to the junction where the cord became two.  I took a break to just hang there, breathe, and get my bearings.  The rest of the climb would be vertical as I ascended past the girl's face and to her right ear.

At this point, I was now dangling above her body.  I had been concerned that if I were to fall earlier, I would land in the gap between the seats, hit the hard surface of the arm rest, or even worse, crash to the distant floor.  Now, my fall would be broken by her body...which, of course, would lead to other, more “interpersonal” problems.  Not to mention, I'd have a lot more climbing to do.  I was determined to just not fall at all.

As I've mentioned, I'm a veteran climber.  You have to be as a Parvian if you want to get anywhere.  Such as life in a giant world.  There aren't always Magnians to carry us around and we don't always like relying on them for transportation.  We've grown so adept at scaling things, some Magnians have thought that we have adhesive hands like an insect.  That’s preposterous, though.  I’m no Spider-Man.  It's all about finding the right handholds and using both upper and lower body strength.

Despite my experience, there wasn't much I could do to prevent what happened next.  As I was about to continue my journey, I heard that familiar ding resound.  The “fasten seatbelts” light came on.  We were entering turbulence.  Before I knew it, the cabin started shaking.  It wasn't violent enough to disrupt most of my fellow passengers or even to wake my neighbor—she didn't even flutter her eyelids.  What it did manage to do was to send the headphone cord swaying to and fro.  My grip remained firm, even as I swung a few feet to the left and right.  I paused my ascent until the cord stabilized.  If I needed to, I could have lept out and grabbed the ledge formed by her chin, but I didn’t need to do anything that dramatic or drastic.  I just needed to be patient and wait to stop swinging.  In hindsight, perhaps jumping would be been the better decision.

In my defense, the failure was not in my own skills or abilities, but in the cord itself.  I hadn't considered that, which led to my downfall—literally.  The next bout of turbulence was just a little stronger than the last.  I was rocked back and forth once more, but what I did not realize is that this action was slowly dislodging the earbud from her ear.  If only it were one of those with the rubber insert that kept it firmly in the ear canal.  Instead, it was the default headphones that came with her iPod that just rested in the earlobe.  Goddamn you, Apple!

The sudden slack truly caught me off guard.  When I saw the earbud come out, I knew that I was utterly helpless.  I was going down like Hans Gruber.  With my back to the ground, I couldn't tell how far I had to drop.  Maybe that was a good thing.  It helped with the “oh shit” feeling.  While I had a good idea where I was headed, that wasn't confirmed until I found myself surrounded on both sides by twin Magnian breasts.

My ass collided with her sternum uncomfortably hard, but not enough to fear that anything was broken.  Just a little bruised.  Knowing my luck this day, it was inevitable that I missed the two perfect landing pads.  The earbud and the cord joined me shortly and together we skidded and slid deep into the depths of this young woman's cleavage to a soundtrack supplied by Taylor Swift.

On the one hand, there was no way that I didn't have her attention by now.  I could already see her fingers looming above.  On the other hand, I did not want to imagine her reaction when extracting a little Parvian pervert out of her boobs.  I had a lot of explaining to do and I wasn't sure if I had enough gift of gab to talk my way out of it.  I had a feeling the “You were in my seat” explanation would not pass at this point.  

The Magnian girl's slender fingers found the missing headphones…but they did not find me.  She pulled it out by the cord and placed it back in her ear.  Then her hand disappeared, uninterested in a continued search.  How could she not have noticed me?  My crash was not exactly subtle and I was in a very sensitive area.  I can only assume that she thought that I was her earbud and that was all.  Whether this was good or bad fortune is up to debate.  But at the very least, the blaring sounds of T-Swift had been taken away.

Assuming that the fates were finally on my side, I still needed to be very still.  Even the slightest motion would rush me into that awkward conversation that I did not want to have.  I just laid there and observed while contemplating my next move.  I’m keeping the stories to myself right now, but this wasn't my first time exploring the Magnian female anatomy. All previous encounters have been mutually consensual, though.

Directly in front of me was the black fabric of her tank top, which at least partially covered her breasts and left me somewhat in the darkness.  I really hoped that she wasn't getting cold and that she would keep that sweatshirt off.  At least now, I could still see what was happening.  Her breasts enveloped me on both sides, extending far beyond me.  Verily, they made quite an impressive bosom, but at the moment, they were also a prison.  A nice prison, but a prison nonetheless.  Behind me, I could feel her heart beating rhythmically in her chest.  Her pulse, along with the warmth of her body, once more were quite lulling to me.  I figure that I might as well settle in and enjoy the moment.  Eventually, it was going to have to end.

“Hey,” I thought to myself, “at least I'm in seat 24A!”

The Magnian young woman in seat 24A was still blissfully sleeping through the flight, still unaware of the hapless Parvian stuck between her boobs.  I had given up trying to get her attention.  At least this way, I wasn't going anywhere.  I was probably more secure there in her cleavage than in that gigantic Magnian airline seat.  I had no idea what I was going to do upon landing, though.

As I was contemplating this, along with the greater concepts of life, destiny, karma, and whether or not there would be an in-flight movie, I saw a familiar face slowly and methodically making its way down the aisle.  

“Care for a beverage?” Melanie, the cheerful Magnian flight attendant, asked a man in row 22.

Melanie!  Melanie would come to my rescue!  In just a couple of rows, she would surely remember the poor Parvian passenger.  

I wasn't wrong.  When she came around with her beverage cart, her eyes grew wide and her face grew pale as she saw the girl sitting in 24A, with me nowhere to be found.  “Mr. Jackson!  Where's Mr. Jackson?!” she asked the young woman frantically.

The girl woke from her nap with confusion.  “Oh, no thank you.  I'm fine.”

“There's supposed to be a Parvian passenger in that seat.  I dropped him off here personally at the gate.  Have you seen him?”

“No...no, I don't think so.  I was assigned 24B, but no one was in the window seat, so…”

“Are you sure?”

The young woman was quickly gaining clarity as she understood the gravity of the situation.  Unbuckling her seatbelt, she stood up and looked at her seat.  To her and Melanie’s horror (and to my annoyance at the reminder), they discovered my crushed carry-on suitcase in the middle of the seat.  I could immediately feel the girl's elevated heart rate thump-thumping through her chest.

“Turn around.  Now.” Melanie softly commanded, fearful of what she might find when she examined the girl’s buttocks, that there might be evidence of an ex-passenger and the genesis of a massive lawsuit against her and the airline.  “There...there's nothing there.  Where could he be?”

It was at this point that I decided to make myself known, the consequences be damned.

“Hi Melanie,” came the voice within the cleavage.  “I'll have a Jack Daniels, please.”

I've made women blush before, but I had never seen a girl turn so beet red in embarrassment than when I relayed the story of my circumstances to my Magnian co-passenger, whose name I learned was Desi.  Desi was on the verge of tears and could not stop apologizing profusely.  Melanie, too, was overwhelmed, but I assured both of them that I was not angry.  This was just part of being Parvian.  We've come to terms with it long ago.  I just didn't want to make more of a scene and draw more attention than necessary.  As far as I was concerned, it was all a series of accidents and personal misfortune.  (Although even then I dared not to mention, “And hey, not even first class includes riding in a hot chick’s boobs!”)  

There was still a couple hours left in the flight.  She tried to object, but I let Desi continue to sit in the window seat.  After all, I couldn't even see out of it.  And despite all that I went through, I did feel a little bad for her.  This was her first time flying.  She probably had never been far from home before.  She was young and apparently wasn't used to Parvians back home.  Finding one in her cleavage was embarrassing, but also made her feel a little vulnerable.  Not violated; just a little vulnerable.  She wouldn't admit it to me, but I could tell by the way she put her sweatshirt back on.

I buckled myself into seat 24B and enjoyed the complimentary bottle of whiskey that Melanie gave me.  It was Magnian-sized, so even though it was miniature for them, it was almost twice as tall as I was.  She winked when she placed it on my seat.  I can hold my liquor, but I wasn't about to drink it all myself without being found dancing butt-naked in the lavatory.  I offered some to Desi.  She had never had whiskey before.  Watching her struggling to swallow her first sip was amusing.

“Ugh!” she wretched. “Is it supposed to burn?”

I chuckled and smiled, then took another sip from my plastic cup.  “That's how you know it's good.”  

I offered her more.  She hesitated and was about to politely decline, but after a slight pause and a face that said “Why not?”, she took me up on the offer.  She lifted the bottle to her lips and took in a whole Magnian mouthful.  Nearly a third of the whiskey chugged out of the bottle before she tilted it away.  She swallowed the gulp down in one go, her nose wrinkling as she tried not to make a face.

“Wow,” she said a moment later with a relaxed sigh and a smile.  “That makes my fingers tingle.”

“Have as much as you want.  I obviously can’t drink the whole thing.”

The two of us together finished the bottle in a matter of minutes and I’m thankful that we did.  With the last drop went any of the awkward tension that might have been lingering between us, as well as any of the stress that comes from traveling.  Our conversation never made it beyond the small talk of airplane co-passengers, but it helped to pass the time and the boredom.  

We landed safely and soon I was on the last leg of my journey home.  I was extraordinarily thankful to be back on solid ground.  I still hate flying.