Want to be friendly and chat on a flight? Please don’t sit next to me

There’s a chance this was all done for attention, for clicks and likes and clout, and I really hope that’s true. Because the alternative is too frightening to consider.

I saw a post on social media recently from a perky, enthusiastic guy called Khong who was sharing with the world the reason he always chooses the middle seat when he flies.

Now, as background, you should understand that the middle seat is objectively the worst seat on the plane. Surely we all know this by now. In the middle you don’t get the views of the window or the easy access of the aisle. You have nothing to lean against, and nowhere to stretch your legs.

You’re never even sure if you’ll get the armrests, even though in my opinion the person in the middle seat should get priority, given everything else in their world really sucks right now. But other passengers don’t always respect that notion. Sometimes you’re just squished in and there’s nothing you can do about it.

So anyway, what’s Khong up to? Why does he claim to always book the middle seat when he flies?

“For the next eight, 10, sometimes 15 hours, you’re stuck between two people,” he writes. “It makes starting a conversation extremely easy.

“Just think about it. Flying internationally alone already isn’t something everyone does. Everyone is going there for a reason. It’s always fun to find out why.

“Not every conversation changes your life. But when the cost is just a question, why wouldn’t you take it?”

Sir, I love your enthusiasm and your optimism and please for the love of God don’t sit next to me on a flight. Please don’t book the middle seat when I’m safely tucked into the window, or luxuriating on the aisle.

I don’t like to talk to people on planes. I don’t want to have a conversation with a stranger. I want to dive into the worst TV shows imaginable and maybe drink a tiny bottle of awful wine and get some sleep and hopefully just get to the other end of my journey unbothered.

Even if the person you’re next to is perfectly lovely, there will still be that awkward expectation throughout the rest of the flight that you will now be talking to each other.

Once I’m off the plane, great. I’m all for it. I love meeting people. It’s a huge part of the travel experience and it forms part of pretty much all my favourite memories of journeys past. This is the way to learn about culture, about life.

But on the plane? I know some people really like this, and will berate me for giving up the opportunity to meet fascinating people from all walks of life who just happen to be sitting next to me for a few hours.

What an opportunity. But … no.

I’ve been trying to think about what the difference is. Why would you like meeting strangers, talking to new people and learning their stories when you’re off the plane, but start sweating with anxiety at the thought of the person next to you striking up a conversation mid-air?

It’s the fact you’re cooped up, of course. You can’t move. You can’t politely say “well, nice to meet you” and go somewhere else.

On a plane you are trapped in exactly the position you currently find yourself for many hours forthcoming. So even if you happen to discover that the person next to you is a chronic over-sharer?, or a flat-Earther, or a Collingwood fan, there’s absolutely nothing you can do until the plane touches down and the seatbelt light goes off.

Even if the person you’re next to is perfectly lovely, there will still be that awkward expectation throughout the rest of the flight that you will now be talking to each other. Or maybe you’ve misread the situation and the other person also doesn’t want to talk any more, but you just plough on because you feel like it’s the right thing to do and you’re both stuck in an endless loop of hell.

Nightmare. Can’t I just watch Mission: Impossible 26 and pretend this isn’t happening?

I’ve only found one exception to my no-talking-on-planes rule, and that’s the stand-up bar at the back in Emirates business class. (I know, I know.) On the top deck of the Emirates A380s there’s a large space at the back that’s a dedicated lounge, with sofa-style seats and room to stand up, as well as a bar where smiling staff pour never-ending beverages.

That, in my opinion at least, is a spot to chat to strangers. That’s a convivial mile-high atmosphere where you can strike up conversation with people you don’t know, safe in the knowledge that at any moment you can just announce that you’re leaving and go back to your gigantic seat and put on your big headphones and no one will bother you.

But that’s an unusual situation. Mostly, it’s rows of three or four, seatbelts and tray tables and nowhere to go.

I’ve probably missed some amazing opportunities. I’ve probably let some incredible people pass me by.

But, sorry, I’m watching The Bourne Identity for the 24th time.