By now you’ve all probably heard about United Airlines’ public relations/customer service   fiasco. If you didn’t here it is in a nutshell – a plane was overbooked, they had to get a flight crew of four on board, they offered $800 in vouchers for volunteers to deplane, there were no takers, they said the plane wasn’t leaving until four people got off, no one budged, so they picked four people, one guy refused to go, he was physically escorted off the plane by the cops and, while they were hauling him away, he got hurt. All captured on cell phone video. Social media predictably exploded. Cue the well-paid crisis management consultants.

My initial reaction to this was, “I’ll bet no one in first class was asked to leave.” I was also pissed at the United CEO’s carefully parsed reaction. “This is an upsetting event to all of us here at United” he wrote. “I apologize for having to re-accommodate these customers.” Pure corporate speak bullshit. “Re-accommodate?” That’s what you call man-handling an older person off a plane? Gimme a break. Now United’s out a billion dollars. 

But a good friend’s reaction to this whole affair surprised me. “Get off the fucking plane!” he said. “What the captain of the plane says goes!”

“Don’t you think you’re being a bit harsh?” I said.

“I fly every couple of weeks,” he said. “I’ve been bumped off flights and I’m a preferred customer. And if they offer me a voucher for another flight I usually take it and put it towards a vacation.”

“But what if you need to really get home?”

“Did everyone on that flight really need to get home?” he said. “Not one of them could’ve taken another flight? Delay their plans for a single day? No one? Are they all surgeons separating conjoined twins the next morning? As far as I’m concerned, everyone on that flight was a selfish asshole.”

“Don’t say that on Twitter,” I said. “You’ll get crucified.”

“I don’t care,” he said. “And you know what? Ask yourself why four crewmembers had to deadhead on that flight. Maybe they were a relief crew for a sick pilot somewhere.  Maybe the pilots on that plane had flown too many hours for that day. If they’re going to kick passengers off a plane I’m sure they didn’t do it just so their employees could get a free ride home. The safety of everyone should always be an airline’s primary concern.”

“Yes,” I said. “That could all be true. But the airline could have found a better way. Perhaps book the flight crew on another airline.”

“Sometimes you’re just fucked,” my friend said. “End of story. Take the voucher and order room service on United’s dime.”

To be honest, I’ve noticed air travel tends to bring out the worst in people. Ever since they took the free pretzels away flying has lost any semblance of being cool or fun. You’re basically riding on a pressurized aluminum bus at 30,000 feet. And with carry on fees, charging you extra for an aisle seat, TSA workers looking down your pants, worrying if in-flight entertainment will consist of a shoe bomb or drunk celebrities needing to be flexi-cuffed, flying is stressful. And unless you’re in first-class, you’re crammed cheek to jowl with a bunch of farting, germ-spewing people displaying varying levels of social graces.

Once I was flying home and seated next to a tearful little boy who, for reasons I’ll never figure out, wasn’t seated next to his mother. I was by the window and the boy was in the middle seat. Before the plane took off the flight attendant asked the man on the aisle to move. “Not my problem,” he said. I could have told the attendant the guy was a jerk because he hogged up all the carryon space with his oversized shit, forcing my bag into checked luggage. “I’ll go,” I said, getting up. Off course I ended up between two fat sweaty guys.

“You’re such a nice man!” a lady behind me said. But once we took off, the little boy began wailing uncontrollably. That’s when the luggage fetishist on the aisle began badgering the flight attendant for another seat. “No can do,” the steward said, karmic joy dripping from her voice. “You were already given the opportunity.”

I turned to the lady behind me. “I’m not a nice guy. I knew that kid was gonna blow.”

Then there’s the people I like to call airline lounge pricks. Because my wife is also an über flyer, whenever I travel with her I gain entrée into a cloistered lounge with free liquor, food and Wi-Fi –  far from the hoi-polloi sitting on their luggage at the departure gate. So, last fall my wife and I were taking a morning flight to L.A. and the lounge was crowded, not a single free seat to be had.

“This sucks,” I said.

“There’s an even nicer lounge than this one,” my wife said. “I’ll bet that one’s empty.”

“There’s another lounge.” I said. “Really?”

“We’re not rich enough, dear.”

Deflated, I looked to see if anyone was getting ready to leave. No one was budging. In fact, no one was even talking. The lounge was quiet. Too quiet. Everyone was reading newspapers, fiddling with computers or munching on food. I also noticed that no one acknowledged the workers clearing plates or restocking the coffee bar. No hellos, no thank yous. The patrons all  seemed hell bent on maintaining some rarefied mystical bubble of privacy. Then I spied a circle of four chairs around a table with only one guy sitting there. The other three chairs were claimed by a coat, a carryon and a computer. The guy wanted the whole place to himself.

“This stuff yours?” I said to the man. When he didn’t acknowledge me, I picked up his coat and carryon and placed them on top of his computer.

“Thanks, pal,” I said. “Appreciate it.”

The man looked at me like I shot his dog. “That’s my stuff,” he said, sternly.

“And it’s still your stuff. Isn’t that wonderful?” I said as my wife and I plopped into the newly freed seats. The man glared at us, I smiled beatifically at him. After a minute he shook his head, collected his crap and left.

“I’m so glad you’re good at confronting people,” my wife said.

“I used to deal with people like that all the time in the restaurant business. Screwing with them gives me joy.”

So, I’m not surprised none of the passengers offered to give up their seats. Airline travel, whether it’s because of the airlines’ thirst for profits or declining public civility, is a freak show. But someone, when they saw the cops come on board and realized that guy was going to be forcibly ejected, should have given up their seat. You can argue the man should have left quietly and I’d probably agree, sometimes you just get the short end of the stick.  But I’m annoyed that some of the passengers recorded videos of that old man getting dragged out on their cell phones and Tweeted about it. When did using social media become a substitute for doing the right thing? People everywhere freak about the tone-deafness of that Kendall Jenner Pepsi ad but, when faced with a situation that required someone to be a human being, to do the uncomfortable thing, people completely wimped out. I’ll wager the “bystander effect,” passengers’ sick of being treated like cattle and the corrosive effects of hiding behind gizmos to avoid reality probably had something to with it. Now I’m not saying United’s sinless, far from it, but let’s face it, 46,000 people a year get booted off flights. My friend was right, no one is that special. Someone should have got off the fucking plane. 

Social scientists will be writing about this for years.

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