As some of you know, I travel somewhat for work. It?s kind of hit or miss and lately it?s been a lot of hits. Since the beginning of June, I have been traveling to NY every week and at times, twice a week (I like to come home at least one night if I am there for 5 days). When I travel to NY, I always take the Delta Shuttle. The Delta Shuttle is a model of excellence in regional air travel. It?s relatively inexpensive (with my corporate discount), extremely efficient and runs close to on schedule almost all the time. Since the Shuttle is such a big player in the Boston-NY, and NY-DC market, I assume ATC gives it clearance to take off and land before other planes. Not sure, just a guess. I love the Delta Shuttle for what it is, what it can be, and what it?s not. Let me tell you a little more about it.
The Shuttle from Boston to NY (and back) leaves every hour on the half hour. It starts at like 6:30 in the morning and keeps going every hour until around 9 PM I think. During heavy travel times they add additional flights as well. It does not assign seats so it?s first come, first serve. I assume this is to help with the efficiency by which the planes are boarded and the high degree of on-time take-offs. They start boarding the plane a half hour before take-off. About 15 minutes before that (45 minutes before take-off), people start lining up to get on the plane first. You see, the aisle and window seats are gold. Aisle seats more golden. It?s a short flight but over half the people getting on board have suits on and like to read the paper, review files, type on their laptops, and enjoy the little extra room of an aisle or window seat. So for a 6:30PM flight, a bunch of people in suits and business dress start lining up at 5:45 so they don?t get stuck with the middle seat. It?s actually quite impressive. Anytime, day or night, morning or evening, if the flight is full, there will be a long line of people waiting to board a plane like sheep being herded into a shore pen. Again, the idea is to be the first on the plane and get the sweet sweet aisle seat that everyone, I mean everyone, wants. Even better, get the aisle seat near the front of the plane so you can get right off and be first in line at the taxi stand. It?s beautiful. Second row (not first, can?t stretch your feet), aisle seat, all bags up top for more foot room, off the plane the second the door opens, saying goodbye to the co-pilot who is forced to smile and say goodbye even though his contract and the union agree that it?s not his job, past the security person staring into the distance dreaming of working for the FBI, past the long line of people waiting to board your plane once it?s cleaned, first in line at the cab stand for the first eager driver to take shortcuts to your downtown meeting location. It?s wonderful. Two gate agents work the line to let everyone in quicker. It rewards travelers who get there early and stand in line, and penalizes those who are late by forcing them to ask, apologetically, for someone to get up so they can create havoc in the middle seat. That is actually a painful experience to watch. It?s embarrassing. Only middle seats left. Everyone in an aisle seat reading the paper high up so their face is blocked and you can?t make eye contact, others with their laptops open so someone won?t ask them to get up, others (this is beautiful in its effectiveness) feign sleeping since people instinctively feel bad about waking someone up. And the people who have to ask. They stand there in the aisle, looking around feebly for an empty seat like a lost child, realize it?s in vain and try to decide on who will hate them the least for taking the middle seat. Just awful. Anyway. People line up with their free magazines and newspapers, get on first, grab a good seat, and everything is fine. Right? Wrong. There is a wrinkle in this sheet. There?s an infield single in the 9th that ruins a no hitter. It?s called a random security check. Yep. A random. Security. Check.
So there I was. Last Tuesday night. I got to the airport at 6:25PM, too late for the 6:30 but ready to stand in line and be the first on for the crowded 7:30. I got to the gate and was the 5th person in line. At 7, they made the announcement that boarding would begin. So I?m stepping up to the plate, big pile of papers to read, pull-bag behind me, suit on, dreaming of my perfect seat, when I handed my ticket to the agent. Usually, after they scan it, your name immediately appears in the LCD display and you are off down the gangway. But this time, I handed him my ticket, he scanned it, and time stopped. I looked down with my hand out for the ticket and my ID, and the display did nothing. One second went by. Nothing. Rivers across the world stopped running. Birds dropped in mid flight. Another second. Still nothing. Ice caps melted. The seventh seal was broken. Then, it happened. My worst fear. It read [Random Security Check ? Dobrindt/D]. Sweet mother of God. I got hit. I got wacked. I didn?t know what to do. I froze. I stood there, mouth partially open, eyes as big as saucers, shoulders starting to sag, knees weak, and just looked at him. I looked at the display, then back at him. With a barely audible voice, I mumbled ?no?. It was like I was about to be shot. I had a vision of my near future. Me standing to the side, going through a full body search, while passengers who I recently looked back in line on and sneered, all walk past me to the diminishing number of good seats. Me, 20 minutes later, entering the plane, hair messed up from the rub down I would get, briefcase all messed up from the search, suit jacket hanging upside down from my arm, looking around the cabin for hope. Hope that would never come. Hope that would be held together with duct tape and glue but fall apart as soon as I entered the plane. Me, locating only 3 or 4 open middle seats between the most undesirable people on the plane.
I was standing there in front of the gate agent. It was terrible. A shot of panic ran through me like a painless cattle prod. I stood there. Then the most wonderful thing happened. The guy said the most precious three words (other than I Love You) that someone can hear. Just. Ignore. It. He said ?Just ignore it?. He said ?Just ignore it?. He said ?JUST IGNORE IT?. I?ve seen guys who were first in line get the message, pulled aside and watched them wonder onto the plane 20 minutes later in a daze. That was NOT going to be me. Not today. Not now. Not me. No way. Oh glorious airplane ticket guy. You just saved me and made my day. In a little bit of stunned amazement, I took my ticket and ID back, and walked onto the plane with a smile, feeling a little like I just avoided a minor accident, and took my aisle seat.
Update:
Flying into Boston there were low hanging clouds over Boston. One of the landing approaches takes the plane right over the Boston Harbor and onto the runway. We came out of the clouds right over the Harbor and about 50 feet above the tower and lights of a very tall ship. It shocked everyone on the right side of the plane. About a dozen people said something right away and by the time we landed, everyone was talking about it. I was up front and when the cockpit door opened, even the pilot said ?Did you see how close we were to that ship??
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