His knee pressed against mine.
At first, I assumed it was accidental.
Airplane seats weren’t especially spacious, and he was considerably taller than I was.
So I moved a little closer to the window.
A moment later, his knee followed.
I shifted again.
He moved farther into my space.
Finally, I spoke.
“Excuse me, Josh. Would you mind moving your knee over a little?”
He glanced down.
Then he laughed.
“Lady, look at you. You’re tiny. You don’t need all that space.”
I stared at him.
For a second, I thought he was joking.
But he seemed completely serious.
“Well,” I said politely, “I did pay for the entire seat.”
He moved his leg perhaps an inch.
“Better?”
“Yes, thank you.”
Thirty seconds later, his knee was touching mine again.
I opened my book and tried to ignore it.
But Josh apparently considered my silence permission to become even more comfortable.
