Humor from Ellen Harrold in The New Yorker.

Whether you gladly fork up the extra cash to secure control of the window shade, or are just a plain psycho who doesn’t mind being nestled between two complete strangers on a red-eye flight, here are some things that your airplane-seat choice says about you.

Aisle

You have to pee right now as you’re reading this.

You want to be in and out of this aircraft A.S.A.P.

Your last relationship ended because you wouldn’t move in, and now, late at night, you lie awake wracked with the profound certainty that they’re the one who got away.

You have a perfect view of the TV screen of the person watching the rom-com “About Time” across the aisle, one row up, and you cannot for the life of you peel your eyes off of it, even though you can’t hear any of the dialogue. Every time you try to look away, your gaze wanders back. Rachel McAdams is downright enchanting.

You’ll take advantage of the ability to stretch your legs out into the aisle and fall asleep like that at the very moment the flight attendants start the drink service.

What you will forget in the seat-back pocket: the book that you were pretending to read by the pool on vacation.

Middle

You’re a terrible planner. Like, your accountant can’t stand you. Just kidding, you don’t have an accountant.

You’ll be damned if you don’t get a good out-the-window pic of the wing to post on Snapchat (yes, Snapchat, not Instagram) and you don’t care whose personal space you have to encroach on to get it. Your ex has to see that you’re out here living your best life! (You’ll spend the remainder of the flight trying to get the onboard Wi-Fi to actually work so you can check if they saw it or not.)

You can fall asleep anywhere, like at your sister’s wedding, or on the guy in 26-F’s shoulder.

Someone you used to hook up with is picking you up from the airport. You keep them around for little favors like this.

What you will forget in the crack between your seat and the window seat: your iPhone that has one of those wallet cases containing all of your credit cards. Oh, and your keys.

Window

You snuck a Swiss Army knife through security for the purpose of flashing it at any poor soul who dares to try and start a conversation with you.

You’ll order tomato juice from the drink cart and secretly hope that the attendant spills some on the white dress shirt of the A-hole who’s asleep in the aisle seat as she passes it to you.

You’re wearing a matching loungewear set that cost more than this plane ticket.

You might be dating the person beside you in the middle seat, in which case, congratulations. You win that relationship.

What you will “forget” under the seat in front of you: the knife. They’ll never catch you.

Emergency-Exit Row

You’re six feet tall, so getting the extra leg room is “high-key the move.”

You will not look any of your fellow-passengers in the eye as they pass, let alone assist them in the event of an emergency.

You won’t figure out how to get the TV screen out from underneath the arm rest until the plane has started its initial descent.

You’re actually five feet eleven.

What you will forget sixteen rows back: your girlfriend.

Fly the problematic skies.