The day I flew United

The following is from an archive and features a moment of humor that wasn’t humorous at the time.

Anyway, as fate would have it, I flew on United the same day they were dragging a doctor off another plane at the same airport because they were overbooked.

I call it, “I flew United… And kept my seat.”

I was going to fly into the Big Apple. It was much worse than it sounded. Actually, the apple was tasty, but getting to it… was not.

Planes freak me out. I’ll start there. Actually, maybe not the planes so much as it is the people who own the planes, fly the planes, fuel the planes and… no, wait. It’s the planes that freak me out. I mean, you could have the most conscientious pilot in the world, flying confidently at a safe altitude when the plane decides to eat a flock of Canada geese over the Hudson River.

Funny, nobody lists how many animals were harmed in the making of that flight.

Cue the nosedive. Complete with a feathered boa.

Also, if you think too much about it and consider you are really flying in an oversized aluminum can you would need a Valium. Because, just dropping from roof level would be painful, but dropping FROM SPACE; there’s no coming back from that.

And. Are you ready for this?

I flew United. (OK, I could hear the gasps all the way into next week)

The day the doctor left skid marks. In the aisle. In the arms. Of the seat police.

Actually, there must have been a full moon out that night because it seemed like every person we ran into had protruding, pointed teeth poking out through their pickle-juice scowls. And their little green flying monkeys weren’t pleasant either.

Minneapolis terminal. Oh, how the excitement turned to giggles and shrieks. The first encounter began with a new United check-in electronic kiosk that you have to navigate before they even allow you to go to talk to a real person. For an impatient and “running behind” traveler, I just want to say, “THAT’S NOT FUNNY.”

It cost me an extra $35 because I found myself pushing buttons at random and gathering the spewing paper tickets like I had just won at the slots in Vegas. They could make even bigger money if they put a “swear jar” over every machine. I’m just sayin’.

Because of the delays at ticketing, (don’t hear that one very often. Yeah, right.), I was afraid that I’d never get on the plane in time, but when I got to the gate, the lines were stretched back as far as St. Paul with people trying to check their carry-ons. Something about overbooked flights in Chicago.

You can’t make this stuff up, folks.

And of course, when something happens in Chicago, it never stays in Chicago – and paralyses the entire world. I am now so indoctrinated that I wake up in Minnesota and stumble to the television where I check the weather report… FOR CHICAGO.

NO breakfast and I don’t know why I didn’t at least stop for a pretzel to tide me over until I got to the scrumptious meal they were serving on the plane. (Threw that in just to see if you were paying attention. Psyche.)

Oh yeah. Pretzels and a medium pop in an airport will cause you to have to put up your car for collateral and give blood at terminal B, gate 36, which is where all the medical planes are hangared. And, $12 for a small bag of almonds in the gift shop? Are you KIDDING me?

I got back to the gate where heard the gate attendant BEGGING people to check all carry-on luggage as, “the plane is full; we will ‘forward’ it to its final destination.”

Which isn’t a bad thing IF your final destination is really where your bag is going. Trust me. It isn’t. It will have a better vacation than you’re having – make sure you train it to take pictures.

I had nightmares of my last trip where the luggage was lost and when they finally delivered it, it came back to me complete with all kinds of stamps on my suitcase from such exotic places as Morocco, Portugal and of course, Cleveland. I still can’t figure out where the parrot came from that popped out of my garment bag.

Being one of the last persons to board, it was such a treat to finally walk down that gate tunnel to the plane and walk into the warm stench of disdain from all the disgruntled and “running late” passengers. All of them, looking at their watches and then up at me as if sending me a signal that this was all my fault.

Finally seated, I opened up my personal Hemisphere Travel Magazine which appears on every back seat of every United plane.

Here are a couple of quotes and my injected and inferred comments in a parenthetical form that accompany Mr. Oscar Munoz’s (United’s king pin) kind greeting to every happy passenger.

“Every day I see our people go the extra mile for our customers and for one another. (why just last week we tossed a guy from one of our planes to make room for one of my favorite stewardesses named ‘Bunni’). First, our Shared Purpose: ‘Connecting people. (ejecting people…) Uniting the world (Inciting the world). We fly right: On the ground and in the air, we hold ourselves to higher standards in safety and reliability. (We have first aid kits available if people accidentally fall on arm rests and are bleeding from the head.) We fly friendly: Warm and welcoming is who we are. (Hostile and welcoming you to come along peaceably or we will use force to drag you off our plane is who we are. You may be wounded by “friendly” fire.)

There is much more in the Munoz dialogue. Pick up a copy – it’s a hoot. My sides literally hurt from laughing so hard.