Airplane Fun

I've been on the road a lot lately, and let me tell you- air travel has been as fun as ever. Not only are the rules increasingly complex and pointless, but my fellow travelers have really been getting on my nerves. It reminds me on an old George Carlin quote: "Think about how dumb the average person is, and then remember that half of all people are dumber than that."

My flight back from Vermont a few weeks ago was interesting because it was on a very small, cramped regional jet. It was still four seats across, but they were labeled A, C, D, and F- presumably to keep people from complaining about getting a middle seat, because there were none.

I was in my aisle seat (3C) ready to go nice and early, which really increased the amount that people bumped into me as they went by. The first was a guy who went past, then said "Oh, I think I went too far" and had to work his way back up to the front of the plane. Mind you, this is a small plane, and there was already a solid line of about 50 people standing behind him, so swimming upstream was a difficult task for everyone. He looks at his ticket, stops around row 3, looks at his ticket, moves up to row 2, etc, looking very confused. Another concerned (annoyed) passenger says "What row are you looking for?" He looks at his ticket once more and says "Um, I'm in 1F." The lady blinks, and points to row one and says "That's right here." Let me reiterate this: HE WASN'T SURE WHERE ROW 1 WAS. I'll admit that on occasion the little nameplates don't quite line up with the seats, so maybe it would be hard to tell row 34 from row 35. But row 1? That's usually the one at the front of the plane.

Meanwhile, another traveler was constantly changing seats. Someone would stop at his row, say "Sorry, I'm in 6A" (or whatever), and he would say "Oh, I'm sorry. Someone was in my seat, so I just took an open one." So he would move, and as I already stated, this was a small plane. He would bump me a few times, find an open seat, ask if it was taken, then climb in. Often, the person in the aisle seat would have to move so he could take the window. Then of course, the cycle repeats. I watched him leave a seat to find an open one (displacing several people in the process), each time explaining that his seat was taken, at least 5 times. You're thinking what I'm thinking right? Tell the jerk in your seat to move! Or, failing that, ask them what seat was theirs and take that. This is not that hard! Eventually the flight attendant notices this dude constantly shifting and makes her way over. She asks him "Sir, which seat are you supposed to be in?" He answers "My ticket says 4F, but somebody's in it." The flight attendant looks over, looks back at him and says "4F is open sir." He says "Oh! I thought F was the aisle!" then proceeds to his original seat. Let me reiterate this: HIS SEAT WAS OPEN THIS ENTIRE TIME. He just didn't understand the clear markings above each row, and thought that constantly shifting seats was a better option than asking about it.

That reminds me of a flight several years ago- I was sitting in 8C, an aisle seat. I'm just chillin' as the plane loads, and suddenly some suit wearing businessman says to me (in a very arrogant tone) "You're in my seat." I look up to see him staring at me, looking as annoyed as he can, and say "I'm pretty sure this is mine. What seat are you in?" He thrusts his ticket in my face, which I love. It's like "I'm too special to verbally tell you, so I'm going to let you read it to really drive my point home. Zing!" So I say to him "That says 8A, which is the window seat." He stammers a little and says "Oh, I thought A was the aisle." As I get up to let him in I said "Nope, it's just like the little picture above the row says." And really, in what world would A be an aisle seat? Why would something in the middle be given the designation A? Have you ever seen a series of items, arranged alphabetically, in which A is in the center? Think about it man! I just love that before thinking about it, or looking around to read the little posted signs, he assumes that I must be wrong and brings on the attitude. He didn't even say "I'm sorry" or "Excuse me."

Anyway, as he made his way to 8A, I saw his nice embroidered briefcase. It read "Harvard Law Alumni." Draw your own conclusions.

Now to be fair, after the trip back from Vermont I flew round trips to Indy and Dallas, and they were both very pleasant. I even got to see Music and Lyrics, which was actually pretty good.