So it’s 11:30 pm. Our plane is late arriving at DFW Airport. Sometimes at DFW it seems you spend as much time on the taxiway at this sprawling airport as one does in flight. Generally speaking, and I do so for and without permission of all the passengers on this particular flight…our patience with anything and anyone was thin.
So have you ever had the airline give you a seating assignment privilege of sitting beside, in front of, or behind the guy that reminds you of the kid that got beat up in high school all the time? Chubby, scraggly beard, geeky, big tear-drop wire rimmed glass from the 80’s, pastel-colored plaid shirt, pansy, penny loafers (with the pennies tucked in the slots), and a tone to his voice that makes you grit and grind your teeth…you know the type, right?
So why is it that flight attendants tell arriving passengers they can turn on their cell phones shortly after landing…long before we get to the gate? Why can’t we wait until we de-plane to “allow” that on switch to be flipped? With the exception of a couple people, everyone I know does the texting. There’s nothing loud and annoying about texting (unless it is a distraction to a real life, vocal conversation….).
So it was this night, as my fellow passengers were all are loading a late-departing flight from Chicago to DFW, a chubby, scraggly-bearded fella one row behind me insisted on letting everyone know his importance and/or ownership of a smartyphone. He called his family just as soon as the hatch was closed. His call to his family member went something like this:
“Yello (not a typo), I just wanted you to know I’m seated and buckled in. I’ll see you in a couple hours”.
Ughhhh! He couldn’t do that in the gate boarding area? Ya know when I looked at him over the seat, I swear he had had a broken nose or two before….
Two hours later – tired, crabby, and easily annoyed – we landed in DFW. As soon as he was given flight attendant permission to do so, “chubbers” makes not one but two phone calls that go like this:
“Yello (still not a typo). We have landed and are taxi-ing down the runway. I’ll be there in a few minutes. See ya when I get there.”
Uggghhhh! Ya know when I again looked at him over the seat, I swear he had false front teeth….
His second call:
“Yello (geez I wish this was a typo). I’ve landed and just called grandmother and she is waiting at the gate for me. Yes…yes….ok….I love you. See you in 2 1/2 months. Bye bye.”
Ya know……when I stood up to yank that damn phone off his ear, I swear he was wetting his pants as he looked in fear at me, the irritated guy across the aisle within arm’s reach, and the agitated guy pushing his way towards him from 3 rows back….
C’mon man! Get over here and let us all beat you up with your “Yello” phone….