B21

Wow – the 11 a.m. San Diego to Nashville flight is the misfit express. Apparently, all those country-music-surfers unencumbered by jobs are on this flight. The front row had 1) an elderly couple petting and cooing to their miniature poodle and 2) a woman wearing a surgical mask. Either Typhoid Mary was on the loose again or this woman wasn’t about to let her poodle allergies get the best of her. If you don’t get an empty middle seat when you’re wearing a surgical mask then you.never.will. At least the mask complemented her “I’m-still-contagious” t-shirt.

This crew of oddballs also seemed to have ample time to check in for their flights early because I ended up with a “B21” boarding pass – which put me approximately 300th to board. B21?!?!? But I’m an “A-Lister”! This is SW payback for that Jetblue post, isn’t it?

Given my rather common boarding assignment, I was ecstatic to find an open aisle seat at Row 9 – which…as we all know….is precisely where Southwest waitress #2 begins her drink service. Score! I figured the seat was open due to the two matronly women already sitting in this row – which GENERALLY means an unacceptably high risk of drawing a “talker”. But when you’re “B21”, you put on your iPod, get big and hope your natural personality repels any attempted talkiness. So far, so good.

It wasn’t until I was comfortably settled in, with the seat-back pocket crammed with “borrowed” granola bars, that I noticed the.two.small.children in the row beside me. The Southwest equivalent of snake eyes. Listen…if you think that brat is getting my snack pack, you’re crazy.

After saying “they’re so cute”, I did have to add…”I heard the surgical mask in Row 1 is SARS. Do you think the darlings are far enough away from her?”