Journey: An overnight long haul flight.
The scene: A full premium economy class cabin.
Describe your fellow traveller: Well-dressed young man in his mid 20s.
The review: I'm already in my seat and as he sits down, he is immediately getting into EVERYTHING, like a nervous hamster you'd just dropped into a new cage. The flap of safety cards, the buttons on the seats. It's like he can't take it all in fast enough. "What cabin is this?" he asks. "It's...premium economy..." I venture. Turns out he just bought the ticket blindly. The onslaught of very minor extras continue to impress him: The eye shade! The free pen! The metal cutlery! It's actually pretty charming to see someone so unjaded with air travel and who is genuinely happy to be sat where he is, rather than the rest of us, who are seething because we didn't get an upgrade to business. After dinner, I fall asleep somewhat contented. However. He soon gets used to his new kingdom, and starts to spread out, quickly commandeering the shared arm rest. Then he plays video games and excitedly jabs me in the ribs a couple of times with his elbow. Accidentally, but, you know...I was asleep, dude. Look more sheepish when I do the half turn and loud sigh. 
Verdict: Like a playful puppy that wets itself. You
Rating: 3/5, almost a 4, but the jabbing...

Journey: An overnight long haul flight.
The scene: A fairly busy economy class cabin.
Describe your fellow traveller: Smart, youngish guy, around 35 or so, sitting next to me in a two-seat row in at the bulkhead.
The review: We exchange basic nodding and hellos as he sits down, and then both of us just read until the dinner service. Here he orders two bottles of wine, and I order one and he opens his and offers a cheers. I cheers him back. He asks me how my trip to Japan was and I give him a few basic details and then he LAUNCHES into his life story, how he'd lived there a year as teacher, fallen in love and moved his life there and then got engaged and then she left him just as they were making plans to get married, all the while getting more frantic and polishing off his wine and ordering more, and a brandy after the food and I'm just nodding and trying to be as sympathetic as I can to someone I don't know. He's pretty distraught by the end, and ordering more booze ("Have YOU ever been in love? (no pause for me to answer) It's like TORTURE, pure TORTURE...") as he finishes each drink. He then necks a couple of sleeping pills (politely offering me one) and then tells me "This is all sure to put me right to sleep, and I really need that certainty. Job interview tomorrow, if I don't get some shut-eye, I'm done for." I see him put his eye mask on and I read for a bit and slowly drift off myself. I wake up a few hours later, and we're beginning our decent. I look over, and what looks like a cadaver is staring back at me, glass of wine in hand. "I couldn't sleep," he informs me testily. "That baby across the aisle kept me wide awake ALL NIGHT. All the drink and all the sleeping pills I took...now I just feel...like death." I squint to look over at a baby some ways away. I can't really imagine how he must feel. "I'm SO, SO TIRED," he moans (I could have guessed that part perhaps). And with that he sinks into an open-eyed coma of some kind as we head to grey, unforgiving London and I hide behind a magazine.
Verdict: Not really annoying and some of his chat was amusing but the pills-alcohol-sleep gamble failed pretty miserably. Plus, you know, life ruined and stuff. I just hope he was OK.
Rating: A sympathetic 3/5.

Journey: A domestic layover at ORD.
The scene: I'm waiting in a small queue to put my things through the x-ray machine at security.
Describe your fellow traveller: A harassed-looking and apparently late John Cusak.
The review: First of all, I'm just putting my things into the trays when some guy cuts in line. I look up, do a slight double take and see it's Hollywood's John Cusak. I like many of his films and he looks inordinately stressed out so I decide to let him go on through. He only has  a small bag, which security pick up on and take a small bottle out of. It's green liquid, just over the regulation size. Security say they'll have to confiscate the bottle. JC does not like this information. He's very late, and now he chooses to argue about the legality of a small bottle of green liquid. He says it's a special kind of shampoo. I have no reason to disbelieve this, but security is standing firm. JC has a choice between arguing for the merits of his irreplaceable shampoo OR heading to catch a flight he is already late for. he makes one more remedial attempt, pulling in all his actorly powers to try and convey how essential this bottle is. Sad to say, not even his hometown security guys can do much for him. He kind of pouts but he doesn't hit diva mode. He runs off into the terminal, shampooless until Hollywood.
Verdict: Minus points for star-jumping the queue, but he remained polite under some (self-inflicted) pressure.
Rating: 3/5

Journey details: A short haul flight.
The scene: It's the late afternoon. I get on and take my window seat.
Passenger description: Well, see for yourself.
The review: So, this grasshopper (?) was apparently living IN BETWEEN THE PANES OF GLASS in the window of the plane. Just to be clear: in between the tough plastic double glazing, which is supposedly air tight. There's no way in there, nothing to eat and no way out. These questions presented themselves: How did this insect get in there? Did it hatch from an egg inside the glass? How is it sustaining itself? How long has it been there? How is it breathing? I thought about these things for the 90-ish minutes of the flight, alerting neighbouring passengers and cabin crew to the stowaway. No-one had any idea how it could come to be there. I couldn't take my mind (or eyes) off it. It seemed happy enough. I don't know. It's hard to tell with insects.
Verdict: Baffling. Innocuous and sinister at the same time.
Rating: 3/5

Journey: A seven hour overnight flight from Miami to London in Economy on British Airways
The scene: I'm in the window seat.
Describe your fellow traveller: He's slight, neatly turned out. Thin moustache. Looks like an anxious substitute Chemistry teacher, down to the pens in his top shirt pocket
The review: As he takes his place in the middle seat, he doesn't say hi, despite my half turn and eye contact with raised eyebrows that signal I'm open to remedial levels of introductory engagement. He settles in quickly and immediately dominates the arm rest, ignoring the common politeness of the 'one person's elbow goes to the front, the other person's elbow goes to the back' unspoken rule. His arm squats along the entire length of the arm rest for most of the flight, despite occasional sorties by my arm. I can't get a toehold on any of the shared territory. After dinner, though, he is admittedly helpful with some basic tray-passing and trash-relaying, so he's obviously not completely self-centred. He doesn't read or watch a movie. In his waking hours, he just regards the back of the seat in front. Hard to peg. I'm putting him down for slightly nervous, lightly selfish but not a full-on shared-space bully.
Verdict: A mostly benign mixed bag.
Rating: 3/5