It is no secret I get around. I travel far more often than I would like, and that is an adventure when you live in Paradise. We have an airport here, but flight frequency and dependability can be challenges. It turns out when you travel there are a myriad of potential hiccups out there, and if you are lucky none of them will find you. Or, perhaps all of them will find you.
The challenges of air travel have been mentioned here before. See Flying, Disappointment, and Lawsuit (December 2022); Manspreading (November 2022) and The FAA and Seats (August 2022). Most recently, there was focus on pilots and their mental health in Mental Health (September 2023).
I recently flew out for a couple of days on what can only be described as challenging. To get out of this time zone (Paradise is not on Eastern time; it is 1957 here) usually involves getting to the airport around 04:00. There is no predicting the security efforts by the fine folks at TSA. Some days the line moves like a babbling brook and other days it moves like it is 1957. I was lucky enough (not at all) on this trip to somehow set off their scanning machine.
That made for a pleasant and unexpected delay in the process (sarcasm). Am I the only one that has been groped and prodded by the TSA? It is particularly humorous when they strive to explain their motivation to you and seek permission to grope you. They and you know you are not getting on that plane until they do. Their polite requests are disingenuous and perfunctory.
I made it to my seat on the first flight. I boarded in the "rest of you" group after all of the various metals, precious stones, and other superlatives. I found a man sitting in my seat. I indicated it was my assigned seat, and he explained "I was hoping the flight would not be full." No worries, he moved to the middle seat. Unfortunately, he nonetheless shared my seat all the way to Atlanta. I felt more sorry for the armrest between us, which groaned and complained vociferously.
Atlanta is a wonderful experience. I always walk the tunnel from one concourse to the next. I remember when the stroll was not as long. These days, I feel like I walk out of Clayton County and into the next. The authorities there have kept it interesting though. One tunnel has various recordings blaring loudly enough to drown out my earphones, another is dark and dismal in some rainforest tribute, and a third has sculptures scattered throughout to congest the traffic path. All are well-thought-out weapons in the war against serenity and efficiency.
I boarded for my next full flight. The last person to board was elderly and on a cell phone. After she passed me, I overheard her conversation: "There is no seat for me," "I am there, and there is no seat," "No, really the seats are all full." A flight attendant passed me toward the rear, then another. I heard one: "no, lap child means the child must sit on your lap," "No, you bought one seat." In a moment the flight attendant passed me moving forward with a huge car seat hoisted above his head. Whoever had poached that seat did so on purpose.
The trip back to Paradise was seemingly better. For once, West Palm deferred its seeming daily afternoon thunderstorm and I took off on time for an uneventful return to Atlanta. I had a whole row to myself, but the seats did not recline. Have you noticed the feuding about reclining seats? The lack of recline was well worth the bonus of having the whole row to myself.
The airlines each seem to accommodate our military (thank you for your service veterans). In Atlanta, that repeated and a large group of young, muscular, and short-haired folks boarded early (after the precious metals). Paradise has many military schools and training programs, so seeing these people in transit is never a surprise. As I later sat awaiting the completion of boarding, an older lady sat on the aisle in the row just in front of me. A moment later, an older gentleman followed and was focused on the aisle seat across from her. The two were obviously together and each apparently liked the aisle. Nice planning.
Unfortunately, the gentleman's seat was already occupied by one of the strapping young military men. As the older man explained that was his seat, the young men in that row (3) argued with him. As he fished out his passport and boarding pass, I noticed his cap read "USMC." Another thing we do not lack in Paradise is military retirees (thank you also for your service). I watched as they debated, and finally as a flight attendant intervened.
The young man in the window seat interjected and explained that the three of them were on the same "team," and that they had been instructed to obey the "buddy system" when traveling. Therefore, he explained, they did not care about what the boarding passes said, they were going to sit together. A patient flight attendant explained that they were not either. She had to coerce and force the mistaken young man into arising and moving to his own assigned seat. As the older gentleman sat down, I noticed the back of that USMC hat read "veteran." Empathy? Respect?
I have my doubts that young, strapping, agile people need to be joined at the hip on an airplane. Perhaps they misunderstood the "Buddy system" to mean more than sticking together in busy places like airports and making sure everyone got on the plane. But I was struck by something more.
The experiences above come down in each instance to lack of consideration. The passenger sharing my seat could have purchased the two he required for his body. The passenger with the car seat could have purchased a seat for that child to occupy. The young passenger with the attitude could have sought a seat change, and absent that could have sat where assigned and saved us all his embarrassment and the delay it caused.
I am all about spreading out when you can. Make no mistake, I love to find the seat next to me unoccupied. I find myself hoping for it, and dreaming of the good old days when planes were not so packed. But, alas, it is rare anymore. That all said, we have no specific right to spread out. When a passenger acts as described, it is an affront to the rest of the passengers. We were all delayed by the decisions of the car-seat and soldier groups.
Imagine a flight attendant on the PA announcing "Ladies and gentlemen you must sit in the seat we have assigned, it is printed on your boarding pass." That is perhaps unimaginable, but after the incident described above, the set-upon flight attendant indeed made it.
Consideration and commiseration have been threatened in our society for years. I am reaching the point that I believe they are becoming extinct; I witnessed young enlistees arguing with a Marine Corps veteran about why he should not be able to sit in his assigned seat (for which he paid extra) across the aisle from his traveling companion. How can such a trainee not empathize with the veteran who was in his shoes not so long ago? They seem to neither recognize nor care about the challenges of others, their rights, and society as a collective experience.
Inconsiderate? Absolutely.
Impolite? Yes.
Worse?
As time passes, I am perceiving such behavior more. Has it been so prevalent and I merely missed it? Or are people becoming less considerate, less polite, and more confrontational (no one cares that you want that seat Mr. Participation Trophy, go to your assigned seat).
It is troublesome to travel. It is exhausting. And those who make it harder through their self-absorbed behavior merely make it worse. My thanks again to the USMC veteran for his service, and on behalf of an embarrassed and disappointed populace, apologies for your mistreatment by the rude and inconsiderate.
