Her: Can I sit here to be near my kids?
She gestures across the aisle, past a large man partially obscuring a teenage girl and a slightly younger boy, 2 quiet, capable-looking humans. She gives no additional information. I look up at her again.
Me: I would prefer to stay in the aisle.
I try to say it with need in my voice. She shrugs, smiles blandly and climbs over me to the middle seat. She makes short conversation soon after: “Do you speak Spanish? No? What are you? Filipino? Oh.”
2 hours pass…
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