The passenger with the NASCAR hat decides to recline the seat from the git go. My newspaper is tight on my chest now. It’s not enough that my space is violated but he keeps pushing back against his seat. Leaning hard like he thinks that it should travel further or perhaps he just feels the need to squirm. You can’t help but focus on this because NASCAR is a big bruiser and that his creaking groaning seat frame is sure to collapse into your lap. I’m forced to ease my seat back as well. Now the person behind me is probably having thoughts… I contemplate the domino chain reaaction row after row.