US Airways

I don't fly a lot, maybe once a quarter or so, and when I do it's generally on a Delta jet. It's what folks in ATL do. Anyhow, recently I had the pleasure of making US Airways my choice for flying. I can tell you it will be the last time!

So, there I am, at the gate, and it's utter chaos. Folks queuing up in line all the way down to the next concourse. The flight is overbooked, they say, and extravagant offers are made for giving up seats. Folks are being paged, uniformed employees are cross checking paper lists and the buzz in the area was quite frenetic.

To make the boarding process easier, they print a zone on each boarding pass. You board by that zone - this way they can control the process better. Probably would work better if they put less than 90% of all passengers in Zone 4.

So it is that I begin to board with my Zone 4 peeps when I'm confronted with the Bag Nazi. FAA regulations demand that only two bags can be carried on board. So the poor lady in front of me had to consolidate her purse into a carry on bag. Once she had that cumbersome package together she was allowed to go down the jetway, where she met Bag Nazi #2. This Nazi's job was to inform people that their bags were too large to fit in the overhead bin. So all the folks who jammed their purses, cameras, laptops et cetera into a carry on bag were now confronted with having to CHECK them.

You can imagine the chaos, can't you?

My backpack escaped attention but it turned out that the overhead bins on the Airbus jet were tiny. And because I was at the end of the herd, there was no space left. I jammed my pack under the seat and gave it a good kick to make sure it escaped notice as it didn't quite fit entirely under. I need not have worried as George Clinton had bigger problems.

Well, okay, he wasn't the real George but he plays him on a tribute band, somewhere, I'm sure. So, the P-Funk wannabe has his two bags and they are big. And they of course don't fit overhead. He looks around, furtively, and sees he has no options. The flight staff, having dealt with this issue many times before, go about professionally ignoring him. The line comes to a stop as the befuddled, bedregged one is clearly lost...

Finally one flight attendent decides to take matters into her own hands and solve the situation by getting on the intercom and telling the man holding up the line to store his bags in the overhead bin or under the seat in front of him and clear the aisle so they can continue boarding, thank you! George places one bag under the seat and sits with a huff, placing his other bag on his lap, wedged between his gut and the seat in front of him. He mutters. And I'm pretty sure the word he is using is not 'funk'.

Well, I knew right away that they would not let him keep that bag on his lap which is why I was not surprised that a cute little blonde attendant soon came by, placed her hand on the his shoulder and said in a sing song voice, while not really looking at him, to place his bag under the seat so we can take off. And she walks away. Definitely not 'funk' this time.

Sensing the man was clearly a trouble maker, they finally send in the big gun - a male flight attendant from First Class. Followed by Cute Blonde, they descend upon the recalictrant Funkmeister and explain that the bag must be stored. George finally gets an audience as he explains that there is no room above or below. In a snit, the First Class dude takes his bag and tells George that they just store it up front for him.

We all collectively shake our heads.