Gavin from Colchester

I sit down for my 7 hour flight UX92 from New York to Madrid. I'm on the aisle in the middle column of seats on a 3-3-3 seating plan. Across the aisle from me is my daughter, son, and wife. When I sit down, there is a little old Spanish lady sitting in the middle seat, and no one on the other aisle. When I say little, I mean considerably under five feet tall. Soon after I sit down, she turns to me and asks, in Spanish, if I can help her connect her phone to the Wi-Fi to call her daughter to let her know that she made it to the plane okay. I do my best, but explain that the Wi-Fi is probably a paid service, and might not even be turned on while we're still on the ground. Ultimately, she was unable to make the call, but I did notice the daughter has a US phone number.

A few minutes pass, and the captain announces that the door has closed. I asked a flight attendant if there were no more passengers, and he confirmed. I suggested, as politely as one can, to my little amiga that she move over to the other aisle seat to free up the space between us. She said that the flight attendant had already suggested that move to her, and she moved over. We then both proceeded to spread out, e.g. putting my headphones in the middle seat back pocket to free up some legroom.

A few more minutes pass, and a loud, drunken British man comes barreling down the aisle. He stops between me and my family and just stands there, speaking loudly to someone across the plane. Awkward, but I ignore him.

Then the flight attendant comes up to me and asks if I could let the noisy brit sit between me and little señora. It's one of those questions in society that aren't really questions. What am I gonna say, "No"? So he sits down and immediately starts talking to the little lady in English, which I'm 95% sure she does not speak. Then he turns to me and offers a handshake, which I accept. "I'm Gavin!", he says. I tell him my name and notice that my headphones in his seat back pocket, and start to take them. "Those are mine!" he says, accusatorially. I immediately recognized this as bullying behavior, where, if you show the bully any fear, they'll laugh and say, "I was just fuckin' with you!", and therefore have established the power dynamic. I calmly said, "No, they're mine, and put them in my seat back pocket." I then re-donned my AirPods and looked away. He spends the next few minutes talking loudly to someone two rows behind us.

A few minutes later, he turns to me and offers a hand and says, "Hi, I'm Gavin!" I say, "I know, I'm Erik", and he acknowledges the embarrassment of the double introduction. For some reason I later regret, I ask him, "What part of the UK are you from?" He says "Colchester! Do you know it? It's considered to be the oldest town in England." I admit that I do not, but mention that I lived near Birmingham for a bit. His face turns. "Are you a muslim?!" A bit taken aback, I say that I am not. He then goes on a loud racist rant about how They are ruining the entire UK and the whole country is a shithole now. I now know that I want as little to do with this person I'm stuck next to for the next 7 hours as possible.

Gavin turns to talk to the old lady in loud English. She nods and cowers. For her benefit, I tap him on the shoulder and tell him that I don't think she speaks any English. He responds, "I've been living in Spain for 9 years, and I can tell you THEY ALL SPEAK ENGLISH!" I shrug and put in my AirPods. He says something else to me, and I take out my AirPod and tell him that I'd rather continue listening to what I'm listening to. He points a threatening finger at me and says, "Don't you EVER tell me how to talk to anyone EVER again!" I re-insert my AirPod and face forward.

A bit later, Gavin pulls out his phone and starts taking a video of himself with the front-facing camera, and then turns it to look at me, saying something along the lines of, "Got you." He then proceeds to mumble to himself, gesturing violently towards the seatback in front of him. I'm honestly not sure if I'm about to get punched.

We finally start taxiing towards the runway, and he unbuckles his seatbelt. "What now?", I wonder. A flight attendant notices, and tells him to buckle it. He says he can't. Now three flight attendants have gathered, and the explain that it's not optional, he must fasten it. He pulls up his shirt to reveal something – scars? I coudn't see – and says that he's got a double hernia and really needs "to go". They told him he can go to the restroom once they are at cruising altitude, but he says, "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna piss right here." One attendant rushes towards the cockpit. The plane stops moving, they give him permission to go, he steps over señora and comes back a few minutes later, now able to fasten his seatbelt. We taxi again and eventually take off. My honest guess is that his bladder was full of beer and he didn't like following rules.

Luckily, right after the in-flight meal service, he dozes off and remains asleep for the entire flight. I managed to avoid eye contact during the entire disembarking procedure.

I'm glad it was me, and not any of my family, that was subjected to such violent knuckleheadery. I'm writing this down a day later to remember all the details. I have not changed his name or hometown because he doesn't deserve the anonymity.

Sadly, it reminded me of the one time I sat next to a rapist (old, defunct blog) in 2018.