Legroom leg-up to responsibility

I FLEW first class to Adelaide the other day — well, as first class as you can get on a budget airline.

I’m talking about those most prized of all economy seats — the emergency exit row.

All that extra legroom is as good as it gets for the thrifty traveller.

But while they don’t cost any more than just a regular seat, they do come at a price.

I saw the way the other passengers looked at us privileged few as they trudged by, preparing to somehow contort their body to fit into their cramped little space.

Let me tell you, there was more than just jealousy in their eyes. There was a palpable sense of resentment.

Believe me, I know that look. I’ve given it to those seated in that most exclusive of rows in the past myself.

What used to really rile me up, however, was when I would watch the flight attendant give them a briefing of the responsibilities that come with sitting in the emergency exit row and they wouldn’t even pretend to pay attention. If there was an actual emergency on that flight, the lives of hundreds of people could be in their hands, yet they’re too busy playing Angry Birds to bother listening to the instructions on how to open the door and clear a path to safety. So this time when I was randomly selected to take one of these seats I took my job seriously, perhaps more seriously than anyone before. I didn’t just glaze over during the flight attendant’s briefing, I listened intently. I even read the safety instructions on the pamphlet afterwards, to make sure I was totally across it if I was called into action.

From the moment we left the runway to the moment we landed, I didn’t browse at the in-flight magazine, play with my phone or take a nap.

And even though I’d been busting to use the loo, I just crossed my legs and held it in.

I was on duty after all and I wanted nothing to compromise my ability to act quickly in a crisis.

Despite my readiness, there was no crisis.

It was a smooth ride the whole way.

But if something had happened, my fellow passengers would have an emergency exit row guy they would have been proud of.

I wasn’t gifted the extra legroom that day, I earned it.