No More Middle Seat!

So I'm always in this existential battle about the correct way to pray.  I know that I need to pray - and I do - but the technique can be quite the mystery to me.  I used to pray for specific things - usually to get something I wanted or avoid something that I didn't.  My Higher Power - Joker Extraordinaire - always seemed to corrupt these self-serving prayers, granting me some of what I wanted but warping the whole thing so that the result was just kind of . . . off.  I felt like I needed to keep calling back to the Help Desk to clarify the specifics of the prayer.  For an omnipotent, omniscient being to require this level of detail was really quite vexing.

So I got a lot more generic with my prayer.  While this may have been a touch more noble - praying to be of maximum service to my fellow man and other useless bullshit - it wasn't as satisfying as asking for a big, fat, juicy steak for dinner.  I figured the golden loophole - laid out in wonderful detail in our Book - was to add the qualifier "if thy will be done."  Still, it seemed a little shaky to ask for a red Ferrari or the winning number in the lottery and make it right by tacking on this otherwise noble phrase.  Shallow generosity.  My Higher Power probably has more pressing problems than to consider my requests for Italian supercars and it would be more productive for me to pray less selfishly in the pittance of time I dedicate to prayer and meditation.  Plus, I should probably buy a lottery ticket if I want to win the lottery.

But, you know, the MIDDLE SEAT!  I really didn't want that middle seat so I went full-blown selfish on my morning prayer today.  I kept asking my god to handle the seating situation for me and - if possible - get me out of the %$!! middle seat.  I had been stung enough by the not winning the lottery while not buying a lottery ticket that I knew I had to do some work.  I lept into action at the airport by asking the nice lady at the ticket counter if she could possibly arrange things to that SuperK and I could sit together.

She smiled sweetly - really - and said: "The flight is full. But I will pass your names along to the gate agent in case someone doesn't show up for the flight.

Yeah, right.  Reminded me of the time the cop who investigated the violent and unauthorized removal of my car stereo system told me that he'd get in touch with me if anything turned up.

"Does anything ever turn up?" I asked.

"No," he said.

I even waved off a middle seat - window seat combination if one became available.  I wanted the aisle.  Bad.  We made our way to the gate, cheerfully, resigned, no hard feelings against anyone.  I mean it's not like I was asking my Higher Power to get me a seat on the plane so I wouldn't have to row to Hong Kong.

After a short bit I heard our names being paged.  I made my way to the check-in counter and gratefully accepted our new seat assignments - together and on an aisle.  I'm still not sure what to make of the mechanism of prayer in this instance.  

My kooky god, anyway.