Please Be Unseated

Whenever I take a coach bus, I have two priorities:
1. Window seat
2. A guarantee that nobody will sit next to me

In reality, having neither of these goals fulfilled isn't so bad but they are my goals, nonetheless.

That being said, it sticks in my craw that I rarely have goal #2 fulfilled. I've long thought about why this is. I realize my instinct to make a beeline for the window seat leaves a tantalizingly open aisle spot for the next rider. My Ichabod Crane body shape also allows for plenty of room for whatever stranger claims the seat next to me.

Always being stuck with someone next to me leaves me with having to deter people from doing so. I've tried sitting in the aisle seat first, but that just makes you look like an asshole when someone requests the open window seat. Ditto for "accidentally" leaving your bag on the seat next to you. A wide, intimidating sitting posture, intended to take up a seat and a half to protect ground, is a useless endeavor (see last paragraph).

he did not have this problem

I may have stumbled upon an effective repellent, however. Rushing onto a bus yesterday, I had no time to stop and eat a meal. I grabbed some pizza and took it with me to make sure I was there on time. Having reached the bus and my coveted window seat, I proceeded to tear into my sub-par, overpriced dinner.

Bit by bit, the bus filled up. My fears grew. Yet, time after time, people would pass over my seat for another one next to a different stranger. They would slowly walk up, pause in delight at the available seat, slightly recoil when seeing me, then move on.

Of course - I should've known! Nobody wants to sit next to the kid chowing down on greasy food. I've done the same thing many times, myself. The greasy-food passenger is like the slightly overweight kid in elementary school who breathes through their mouth: he who sits next to them risks a smelly, socially uncomfortable journey.

Eventually, the bus was filled to capacity. But I can say that the very last person to board that bus was forced to take the seat next to me. And their hesitance to take this final, open spot assures me that I have found the path to victory. But my hands did smell funny after eating that pizza.