don’t send me back there
July 22, 2009
Remember when Jerry is flying with Elaine, they’re at the ticket counter, and the ticket agent says “I have one seat in first class, and one in coach. The price is the same since your flight was canceled.”
And, the timeless conversation follows:
Jerry: I’ll take the first class.
Elaine: Why should you get the first class?
Jerry: Elaine, have you ever flown first class?
Jerry: All right then. See? You won’t know what you’re missing. I’ve flown first class, Elaine– I can’t go back to coach. I can’t… I won’t…”
I flew to Columbus, Ohio with some co-workers Monday, but with a stop in Minneapolis. Our admin made the reservations, and somehow got us into first class for both outward bound legs. Pure luxury.
We had an inexplicable stopover in Atlanta on the way back to Salt Lake City last night, although the flight from Columbus to Atlanta is only about an hour, and I had a nice forward window seat. Not first class, but not bad.
But. But. But from Atlanta to Salt Lake City, a 3.5 hour flight when all goes well (it didn’t), I was in 37B. Not a bulkhead. Not an exit row. Just pure crap between two large strangers. Are the seats getting narrower or am I getting fatter?
But hey, at least we had individual seat-back screens and a plethora of movie options to choose from, right? I would watch Taken first and Gran Torino next, and before I knew it, I’d be home and in bed.
Except, the screens in our row only showed the options, but would not SELECT the options. I must have touched that touch screen a thousand times, like a lab rat pushing the cocaine button, before I gave up. My row companion went further.
“Excuse me Miss” he said the the nice flight attendant lady. “Our screens don’t work.”
“Oh, I’m sure they do. Just keep trying.” And she scampered off.
30 minutes later, my seat mate grabbed her arm. “Our movie screens DON’T work. Do something.”
“Oh, of course, I’ll just reset the screens on your row.”
She disappeared for another 30 minutes. But my partner was not to be denied. Yet.
Another arm grab. “Excuse me. You were going to fix our screens?”
“Oh, did they not scramble and reset? I’ll do it again.”
I never saw her again the rest of the flight. I hate flight attendants. You hear that, flight attendants? I hate you.
I need to get back to first class. They have cookies up there.