Air Travel, And All That Implies, Part One
I was on a plane, and as it was landing, a stewardess with an angry, plastic smile walked over and told me to put my seat up.
“It is up,” I said. Because it was.
“Uh, I don’t think so sir,” she said, glaring but still smiling.
I made a face, turned my head to look at my own seat. It was up. It was perfectly level with the seats next to it. “Look,” I said, pointing, “It’s up.”
“No it’s not sir,” she said, getting more upset, “You need to have your seat up for landing.”
Since I have plenty of experience using logic on insane people, I smiled and said, “Okay, then look at this.”
I pointed at my own finger on my other hand, and used that finger to press the button that moved the seat up. As she watched, I pushed the button all the way down. My seat did not move. See, it didn’t move, because it was already up. I looked back at her and smiled like a smartass.
In response, she made a face and started shaking her head. People hate to be proven wrong. It makes them very mad.
“Well,” she said, “Sometimes they get stuck!”
She then proceeded to lean over the seats behind me, and started punching the back of my seat. I’m not kidding. She started wailing on it like Mike Tyson’s punching bag. My head was bouncing up and down like a little piston. I felt like I was riding on jeep in the Serengeti.
After a few moments of this, she finally gave up, scowled, and moved down the isle to harass another customer.
Fight attendants are awesome.