I know you've been there...especially the ladies.

You enter a public restroom and notice that the handicap stall is vacant. You look left...you look right...not a handicapped soul in sight, so you scamper quickly into the luxurious accommodations to take care of business. You may feel slightly guilty, but since you'll only be a moment, there's no damage done...right? Why waste a perfectly good toilet?

Yeah...I use that logic as well.

Should I exit the stall and find a handicapped person squeezing their thighs together glaring at me, I'm sure I'd feel guilty. It's not like they have the luxury of choice that I have. In a way, I can understand their proprietary claim to the handicapped stall...I feel pretty much the same about the exit row of an airplane.

All air travelers know that next to business class, the exit row is the most luxurious seating on any flight. For a few lovely inches of additional leg room, you merely have to assure the flight crew that you can speak English, have read the instructions on how to open a door and are willing to assist with tossing your fellow travelers out of it at the appropriate time should it become necessary. In my opinion, this is definitely a fair exchange...however, I think there should be one more criteria.

If you've ever been to a carnival, you may have seen those height requirement signs that state "you must be this tall to be on this ride." Most adults never have to worry about them, but occasionally you'll see a thrill-seeking little boy standing on tip-toe with a hopeful look on his face...only to face certain rejection by the ride's operator. Nothing irks me more (at the moment) than to see a shorter person claiming an exit row seat on a plane. Shouldn't there be some sort of minimal height requirement for the roomiest seats?

Trust me, I understand the handicap bathroom stall mentality of Mr. 5'6" lounging comfortably in an exit row seat, his laptop open on the table and a cold beer in his hand. He probably has no clue as he adds insult to injury by reclining his seat that I'm folded up behind him with my knees beneath my chin engaged in a wrestling match for three inches of armrest space. Never mind arterial thrombosis...if we had to assume the crash position, I would be seriously screwed.

As I sat there in this contorted fashion, I began to feel sorry for myself. Why was I being so unfairly singled out and punished for simply being of greater than average height? With over four hours to kill in flight and minimal blood circulation going to my extremities, I had nothing to do but dwell on the unfortunate circumstances of my disregarded handicap...