I get this
fear sometimes that I have left the world I was born in and have
been transported, somehow to some other planet or parallel
universe. I mean, how else can you explain the fact that one day
the world just seems to have gone weird on you overnight? Take
for instance a trip I was on the other day. You know the drill;
head to the airport a couple of hours early these days because
of all of the security measures. Now instead of flying being a
pleasant experience, it becomes a test of wills…theirs against
ours. These days you have to go to the airlines main counter to
pick up your boarding pass. So, what happens when you finally
get up to the counter and present your ticket? I’ll tell you
what happens…the airlines have hired type “B” personalities at
the counter in order to cope and retain control over the classic
type “A” personalities…of which I am a charter member.
All I want to do is get my pass,
go through to the next level of purgatory (bag screening) grab
a quick cup of coffee, find me a nice quiet place to sit down
and wait for the next three hours to pass so I can board my
flight. But, is this going to happen? No way Jose. Somehow I
always manage to get the calmest employee the airlines has in
their complete inventory. While I am dancing from one foot to
the next she is staring intently into the mystical depths of the
airline computer looking for something. What she is looking for
I have never, ever been able to determine. I’ve asked a number
of former airline personnel just what are they looking at when
you give them your ticket and I always get the same answer…
”We can’t tell you.” It’s as if
all of these people are Masons or members of some other secret
society that swears them to a vow of secrecy, punishable by
death if they admit to any non member what all that typing is
about. You’ve been there, you know what I mean. Here you have
some short name like Tom Smith. Simple name, Tom Smith. Only
eight letters long. The person at the counter can be typing the
equivalent of the sequel to “War and Peace” for all you know
since she is typing so fast and furious. I have always suspected
they are really typing letters to their mothers or their
husbands, instead of looking up your reservation. I mean, come
on…how many keystrokes can it take to look up Tom Smith on
flight 954 to Dayton?
“Dear Mom, you should see the guy
standing here in front of me. He is about to go out of his gourd
thinking that I’m not going to be able to get him on his flight
to Dayton. Everyone is fine. Cassie still has the sniffles. I’ll
be over there for Dad’s birthday this weekend. Did you get the
recipe I sent you for the fish tacos? Well, got to go I think
this guy might be about to have a heart attack and I don’t want
to have to fill out another of those long report forms. See
you.” Nope, I think they’re trained to make it appear as if you
are at their total control and thus will be so pleased and
grateful to have that little piece of paper in your hands that
allows you to board the plane that you forget where you are
sitting (on the last row of seat, by the bathroom) and that you
must pay $5.00 for a domestic beer and that the in-flight meal
now consists of a bag of stale peanuts or mini-pretzels.
They can tell that you (or I) are
a ”Type A” by the way we approach the counter. We aren’t laid
back and cool. We are all business. We have a mission. We have
purpose. We actually WANT to go to Dayton. So, it’s her
assignment to keep us docile and unwilling to make any kind of
complaints of any sort about the long lines, the poor food or
the late planes. The truly senior counter clerks can totally
unnerve any “type A” person with the next terror tool in their
box, which is the classic word…”Huummm”. Anyone who flies with
any degree of regularity, as I do, knows that this one
word…..”Huummm” is never; I repeat never an omen of good. This
is the precursor to disaster.
This can mean any number of
things. The plane is late. The plane is broken. The flight is
cancelled. The weather is horrible. The pilots are on strike.
The flight is overbooked at least 300%. No one who has ever
stood at that counter wants to have the airline representative
take your ticket, type on the keyboard for four or five minutes
and then stop and say…”Huummm.” Now comes the test of wills….If
you are not cool, at this time you will panic and start
asking…”What…what is it?” Which only confirms that you, my
friend are a traveling “Type A” novice. What you should do is
casually look at your watch. Perhaps glance around the terminal
very slowly and maybe ask the person behind you where you might
be able to get your hair cut and your shoes shined. This shows
the counter person that you are immune to her silly games and
that even if you are a “Type A” personality your resolve cannot
be shaken.
Once you have shown them who is
truly the boss, then they will hand you your pass and go on to
the next person in line. I’ve had it happen thousands of times.
Try this and see if I ‘m not right. But do one thing more. As
you raise up from picking up your bags, look the airline person
directly in the eye and you’ll see a twinkle and maybe even get
a small smile or just the hint of a salute. It’s their way of
paying their respects to a fellow seasoned traveler. Kind of
like the thing they used to do with the gladiators. Well, not
exactly since the gladiators didn’t have to get boarding passes.
