More Southwest Tales

Look – I can spot a Southwest Business Select passenger a mile away. They smell like an expense report. So when some hapless soul wonders into the front of the boarding line with half-eaten pizza and a dazed look – I know they’re not in the right place. And so it was earlier this week as I waited to board my cross-country flight, when a young, ditzy woman with a gi-normous yellow beach bag wondered into the spot for A5 [in front of me] and stopped.

In such instances, I TRY to be polite – I really do. But most of the time these dingbats are shielding their boarding pass like it’s a state secret and are oblivious to the other 59 people lining up according to some…system. [It’s not the Rosetta Stone, people, it can be deciphered] And THAT is generally when I start to get a little….ummm…pushy.

I merely suggested that “about 30 people are going to need to get past you in a minute.” Innocuous, I thought. But when the gate agent starts asking for the "A" boarding group…a certain mob mentality takes hold…I mean…there are exit row seats at stake here. As I nudged [only nudged] past dingbat, I MAY have editorialized a little…“well, lady…just as predicted…you and your Subaru-sized beach bag are RIGHT in the path of 30 people who are lined up CORRECTLY”. From which this oh-so-witty exchange followed: “Oh…world traveler” “That’s right lady – it takes a lot of savvy to count to 30”. [The promise of a little extra leg-room makes me crazy.]

After I smugly settled into my almost-exit row seat [damn those through-fares] I anxiously watched the gi-normous yellow bag settle into the row across from me, lean over and say...“Well hello Bitch. Looks like we can travel across the country counting to 30 together.”