Middle Seat Crimes and Overhead Bin Felons: The Official Ranking of Every Airplane Passenger
Photo: Bell Aircraft Corp, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons
Thanksgiving travel season is upon us, which means 3 million Americans are about to be crammed into a metal tube at 35,000 feet with nothing but pretzels, rage, and one shared armrest to fight over. Having spent roughly 900 hours of my life wedged between strangers, I feel uniquely qualified to present the definitive passenger taxonomy. Find yourself. Then change.
S Tier: The Crying Baby Parent (Fighting for Their Life)
The most maligned passenger in aviation history is actually the most heroic. This parent boarded with two car seats, a diaper bag the size of a checked bag, and a toddler who has already screamed the word 'NO' at three separate gate agents. They are not the problem. They are a soldier on the front lines, and when their kid starts wailing at cruising altitude, the correct response is to offer help, not a dirty look. Anyone who glares at a baby for crying is losing an argument to someone who can't talk.
A Tier: The Window Seat Sleeper
Boards. Sits. Says 'hey, how's it going.' Asks for nothing. Asleep before the safety demo ends. This person has mastered flight. They wake only for the beverage cart and land refreshed. We should all aspire to this level of self-contained tranquility.
B Tier: The Recliner With Limited Remorse
They recline. Immediately. Fully. The second the wheels leave the runway, their seatback arrives in your kneecaps like an uninvited houseguest. Not evil — the seat reclines, that's what it's for — but reclining at full force during beverage service while you're holding a cup of tomato juice? That's a moral failing with a mechanical component.
B- Tier: The Aisle Stand-Up Guy
The plane touches down and this man is already standing in the aisle like a meerkat, hunched under the overhead bins, holding his backpack, for forty-five minutes. Sir. The door does not open faster because you are standing. Sit down, Kevin. We're all going to Des Moines together.
C Tier: The Overhead Bin Genius
This person brought three suitcases, a duffel, and what appears to be a rolled carpet, and is now performing Tetris miracles in the overhead bin while a line of 40 people waits. Their confidence is almost admirable. Almost. Meanwhile, someone's tiny backpack got gate-checked because the bins are now occupied by this person's entire kitchen. There is a special circle of traveler hell reserved here, and it has no legroom.
D Tier: The Armrest Squatter
Middle seat, sure, but this individual has claimed BOTH armrests and is somehow also spreading into the elbow space behind your tray table. You are now flying in the shape of a comma for four hours. There's a shared custody arrangement for armrests in polite society, and this person has taken full custody without filing paperwork.
F Tier: The Personal Speaker Guy
Headphones exist. They are cheap. They are everywhere. And yet this man is watching a video of a man watching another video, at full volume, with zero shame. Every few minutes he chuckles, and every chuckle is a tiny act of violence against the entire cabin. If the FAA had a vibe check division, this man would be in a small room being asked gentle questions.
F+ Tier: The Gate Lurger Who Boards Group 1 With Group 7
They don't have status. They don't have pre-boarding. But the second their group is called, they materialize at the front of the line like a poltergeist, cutting off a family of five. The flight takes off at the same time regardless of when you sit down, Brenda. The seatbelt sign doesn't care about your hustle.
Final Boarding Call
The truth is, air travel strips away our civility and reveals who we really are: a nation of people who will commit minor crimes for an aisle seat. This holiday season, be the sleeper, not the speaker guy. And if you see the armrest squatter, avenge me.