My back has hurt for a week, and I can tell you exactly when the problem started this time.

I say “this time,” because I will admit to my back causing me problems in the past. Oh, I’ve been to physical therapy, and they had me do “baby exercises” compared to what I do in my aerobics class. No measurable improvement, either.

But this one started as I sat on an airplane, minding my own business. I even had carefully made sure my coat didn’t spill over into his seat, because whoever sat there didn’t need to be putting up with my stuff.

Then this perfectly pleasant, yet very large man, asked if I would mind if we would raise the arm rest. Yes, the arm rest that previously had designated which seat was mine and which one was his. He wanted all of his and part of mine.

Now I have much sympathy for people who need to lose weight. Gee, I’d even put myself in that category, not being a skinny girl. I know dropping some pounds can be a difficult, all-consuming task.

So since my momma raised me to be polite as possible, I raised the arm rest, and he proceeded to take up a seat and then some. When I found out his wife was sitting in another row, I offered to trade seats. Yes, take my aisle seat, I said, and I’ll take her middle seat. I was hoping I could at least have the arm rests down.

Nope, he didn’t want that. Have you guessed why? She wasn’t so tiny herself.

So I spent an hour-and-a-half with my feet barely touching (another issue that I have on airplanes) and leaning to the right so my seatmate could have all the space he needed.

And I’m thinking my new friend’s need of two seats should have made his wallet hurt since he was in need of not the one seat he paid for, but the almost two he actually used. But, alas, it’s my back, not his pocketbook, that hurts.