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About eight years ago, I was completely wiped out after a hectic trip to New York City. Between work and nightlife, I was running on fumes as I prepared to fly back to Salt Lake City. I was desperate for sleep, so I took NyQuil to help me crash on the plane.
I had an aisle seat in row 12, but when I got there, a woman was in my seat. She insisted it was hers and asked if I could switch. I agreed and moved to 12A, falling asleep almost immediately.
Not long after, she woke me up, saying she needed her original seat back due to claustrophobia. Exhausted and not wanting to argue, I switched back to 12F. But then, she decided to leave the plane due to a panic attack and offered me 12A again. I moved back, hoping to finally get some rest.
Just as I was dozing off, a man showed up with a ticket for 12A. Turns out, it was now his seat after the woman left. Too tired to care, I moved to 12B. A few minutes later, the man decided to move to the back of the plane, so I took 12A once more and finally got some sleep.
TL;DR: Sometimes, it’s best to stick with your assigned seat and avoid the seat shuffle drama
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