I recently was in a long overnight flight, in a middle seat due to a previously cancelled (I wasn't mad, safety first) flight.

The situation was not optimal but it was a good one nonetheless. Traveling and having time for yourself is something that should be cherished when available. My seat was on the right side of the plane, in an exit row in the first row behind bathrooms. 9 hours and 40 minutes to go. both my seat buddies seemed nice, they were also in a non-optimal situation. Both quiet, they just wanted to get there. We were all on the same page about that. The gentleman on my right was tall, lanky and unfortunately didn't have all the leg space he could have, since his legs could reach a protection that went around the emergency exit itself. Not the best setup, for anyone.

I smelled something. To my surprise it was my seat buddy, with an open mouth (but not snoring), pointed at me. Not to shame him as the same happens to me. Sometimes you don't control your sleep and that's what happened to him. After a couple of minutes, the smell was indeed an issue. I even tried wearing a mask to see if it would work (surprisingly works in some situations) but, no luck. The problem was that it was pointed at me, almost directly.

There are a few options when this happens. Do you do the "gentle bump" while you reposition yourself in the seat? Do you tap the person?

In my career (and life as well), sometimes it's good to think about new solutions to existing problems. Things change, situations differ. Thinking and adapting should always be constant. Just because you do find a new solution it doesn't mean you should use it though, there are always tradeoffs to be considered.

I, to my surprise, thought of something completely new, unprecedented in my career as a passenger: what if I used the air jet to solve this problem? I was feeling adventurous and assessed the tradeoffs. I decided it was a go. I proceeded to open his closed air jet and aim it towards his mouth, hoping for a dry mouth effect and slight discomfort, just enough to have the person move positions, without waking them up. I executed perfectly and in less than one minute of direct air blast, my seat buddy moved, looked to the other side completely. Mission accomplished, I reached up and turned the air jet off. I did have to do it two more times, both worked perfectly. Success.

The end result was a mix of guilt, joy, orneriness and just enough pride in the solution to write a small blog about it. To my seat buddy: sorry, it had to be done. Well, not really, but it got done anyways. See you all in the friendly skies.