Even as a frequent traveler, I still believe that flying is an amazing feat. Why? Well, you are taking a piece of machinery that ways a few tons, catapulting it into the air (Yes, people, I do understand you are not really catapulting it into the air and there is a lot of engineering behind it), and it actually stays! Amazing!It's a joy, not a task to fly, and people take the whole experience for granted. Also, ladies and gentleman, those people that help to get you there (pilots and flight attendants) are amazing. Think about it people...How would you feel having to serve every kind of person that roams the earth and do it with a smile? Tough job? I think so. That is why it is always interesting to see how people act.
On my trip from Boston to Seattle, my center row-mate proved that it can be a task. When they do beverage service, it is important to say exactly what you want, and most of the time the flight attendants will give it you.
"Cranberry juice," said the woman sitting next to me.
"Certainly," said the flight attendant, as she puts ice into a nice glass and fills it with cranberry juice.
"I said no ice! Strain it out!" The woman next to me says in a high pitched nasty tone."Ma'am, I don't have the ability to strain it out. I'm sorry," the flight attendant says nicely.
"Well, you need to figure it out," says my b-tchy row mate.
"I'll take it," I say, and the flight attendant hands me the drink.
"Thank you," the flight attendant responds, as she pours a new cranberry juice for my row-mate.
When done the flight attendant continues proceeds to ask the couple across from me what they would like, and they respond as follows:
"I'll have two glasses of wine, and my wife will have two vodkas and cranberry juice." To which the flight attendance happily pours, charges them for, and proceeds on out of ear shot.
"What a b-tch," says the no ice row-mate, trying to get my attention.
Completely engaged in my book, I choose not to engage her, because I want to tell her how nasty she just was to the flight attendant. Luckily, she doesn't pursue me further, until towards the end of the flight.
After having watched the couple to my left proceed to get another eight servings of two wines and two vodkas with cranberry, the plane lands, (None to soon, as the couple where making out for the last hour or so) taxis in to the gate, and we begin to wait for people offload.
"Wasn't that flight attendant a b-tch?" says no ice lady to the drunk couple."Definitely," says the drunk wife, as she leans forwards and tumbles into me.
"Couldn't believe how she talked to me. I am going to write a letter to the airline," no ice lady says, as she places her bag on my seat on top of my bag.
"You should. They shouldn't get away with rudeness," says the drunk husband, as he pulls on his cigarette smelling leather jacket, and proceeds to push me into the row behind me.
"Great, sounds like a recipe for fun to me. You, nasty b-tch of a woman, get together with your drunk row-mates, and write that letter," I say to myself, and the line starts to move off the plane.
Got to love one pinch oblivious b-tch, and two pinches of oblivious drunks.
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