Nickled and Dimed in the Friendly Skies

Oct 8, 2010

I caught a cab to the airport at 5:45 AM, walked through the security check, then made my way to the gate and directly onto the plane without skipping a beat. I had an aisle seat next to two women who could've used an extra seat each to accommodate their ample derrieres. They were part of a big group -- a couple of families, I think -- loud and not particularly savvy travelers. Eleven people seated in groups of three left one seat open -- smack dab in the middle -- for yours truly. I found myself teaching the lot of them how to lower their tray tables, put their seats back, adjust their seat belts, and so on. "I'm gonna have a yogurt," said the elderly woman across the aisle from me. She was wearing a pink polyester pant suit and what can only be described as an Easter bonnet. I nodded politely. The airline didn't provide a free meal like the old days; everything cost money. A hostess came around, handing out menus. I wasn't interested, so I didn't know what was on offer or what the prices were. I can only guess it was too much for too little. When the food cart made its way to where we sat, the old woman told the hostess, "I want a yogurt."

The hostess held up a pre-packaged bag with a banana, a yogurt, and a granola bar. "Six dollars for the bag," she said.

"I'll take the yogurt," the woman said.

"I'm sorry, you can't buy the items separately. Six dollars. Yogurt, a banana, and a granola bar. Would you like it?"

"You want any of that?" she said, turning to a slightly younger woman next to her, dressed in a similar fashion, except instead of pink, she wore maroon and had long gold fingernails. They both had matching wigs.

"Someone'll eat it," she said.

The pink lady started rustling through her patent leather purse for some cash, but the hostess told her, "No cash. We can only accept credit cards."

The family had a five-minute discussion to decide whose credit card to use. The youngest of the group, the daughter of the woman next to me, insisted they use her card if for no other reason than to get things moving. Once it was decided, the whole family got in on the action, ordering all sorts of crap from the menu.

I suppose the fact that the airline didn't accept cash prevented the hostesses from skimming from the proceeds, but having to swipe credit cards for every little thing -- including two-dollar headsets -- slowed everything down. We were probably ready to land by the time the food cart made its way to the last row.

Not only did they charge for the food and the headsets, but in case you happened to have your own headphones, like me, they still tried to get you by charging for the programming. If you wanted to watch a third-rate movie, you had to swipe your credit card through the slot under the screen. There were two or three shows you could watch for free, if you could stand them, and the two women next to me were content to watch The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, laughing it up while sharing a two-dollar headset.

I had already decided I wasn't going to pay for anything, but I couldn't have watched TV even if I wanted to because the woman sitting next to me was covering my TV controls with her ham-sized arm. It's not like I could've simply asked her to move; there was no way for her to fit in the seat without spilling into mine. For the entire flight, I had to lean into the aisle, which meant getting slammed in the knee by coffee carts and bumped in the shoulder anytime someone went to the restroom. As the family talked to each other over my head -- I was surrounded on all sides -- I figured out that they were some kind of choir on a singing trip. The two women next to me started talking about what the bible says. The bible says this and the bible says that. It came as no surprise that when the plane finally touched down that they all clapped their hands and praised the lord for getting them there safely.

I might've said the words, "Thank god," myself, once the doors opened and I was off the plane. I can't remember.