I seem to always get seated at the back of the plane. I’m not quite sure why, but the rear lavatory and I are consistently on intimate terms. On this flight, I was seated next to the window in the last row and was the last person off the plane. It’s one reason I like flying Southwest, where I can pick a middle seat up front.
Although sitting at the back of the plane stinks — sometimes literally — it does give you time for people watching, and inner heckling. “Hey Grampa, have some consideration for those of us trying to make a connection and put your freaking sweater on after you leave the plane!” “Lady, do us all a favor and use baggage check for that oversized bag next time!” “And Mountain Man, please remember when you turn around that that overstuffed backpack is knocking into the people behind you!”