Dear Passenger in 3B,

Welcome aboard this five-hour voyage to Miami, otherwise known as your personal runway for 15 dramatic strolls to see your BFF three rows back—in just the first 45 minutes! Truly, if walking were an Olympic sport, you’d already have the gold medal and a Wheaties box cover.

However, may I gently remind you that the seatback in front of you is not a CrossFit resistance band nor a medieval catapult. The violent yanking as you hoist yourself up is giving me full-on whiplash in 2B. At this point, I may need to file a worker’s comp claim for “unprovoked spinal injury at 30,000 feet.”

Might I suggest using the armrests, a stable invention conveniently located on both sides of your seat, engineered precisely for standing up without launching your neighbor into a chiropractic emergency?

Sincerely,

Whiplashed in 2B (now shopping for neck braces on inflight Wi-Fi)