If you read this blog on occasion you probably know how much I hate to fly. It is one of my least favorite things, but I do it because the idea of some petty little fear holding me back from life is ridiculous. The time in the air is not so good... sweaty clammy hands and all... but I get through it.
Flying Southwest is another thing. If I liked to fly, I still would hate flying Southwest. It just brings out the worst is some people. Pushing, shoving, bickering. Southwest feels like a bus ride to camp... like the bus ride on Sixteen Candles ("score! a direct hit") or Meatballs ("are you ready for the summer?!"). Before getting on the bus ride it's the lines... A, B, or C. Like cattle people sit on the floor to start a line more than an hour before even being let on the plane. Do people not have lives?
Flying home from Portland the flight attendant with the microphone giving safety instructions (that most people ignore since they are always the same) was in a bitchy mood. When informing people to not line up near the front lavatory she added "because we know why we can not do that, because of that one day that all of that bad stuff happened." Holy Crap! She freaked out most of the plane. The unspoken rule of flying: Don't talk about 9/11 while on a plane.
Sure, Southwest tries to be the airline with love, or something like that. They still give out snacks and all the free non-alcoholic beverages you want. So people get greedy for the free stuff. Passengers hit their little call buttons requesting another snack box just so they can put it in their carry-on bag. Maybe they are feeling like they are getting a better deal if they take more goodies and drinks. They probably even steal toilet paper from the bathrooms.
It seems like once a year I am on a Southwest flight... it might be less than that. I must say that most of my flights arrive ahead of schedule, and for being a tall person I seem to have a little more room on their airplanes. But the people that Southwest attracts is the pits.