Coffee, Tea, or Me?
I boarded a flight from Las Vegas to Detroit early this morning (I’m writing from it now) to connect to Boston, where a limo will take me home in time to see the Super Bowl, if all goes well. Maria is taping it, just in case.
I’m in the first seat in first class, and I decide to use the restroom before we take off, but the flight attendant at the door goes in before me, There’s not much room, so I stand in her place aside the people boarding. In less than a minute, passengers are asking me if they can take the packets of hand sanitizers, if there will be room for their luggage, and whether we’ll be arriving on time.
You have to understand, I had to wake up at 3:30 for my 4:00 am limo to the airport. My hair isn’t approaching “combed.” I haven’t shaved. I’m wearing black jeans, a black tee-shirt, and black sneakers. I have, of course, no identification whatsoever.
But, I hand out packets of sanitizer and encourage people to take several, assure them we’re on time, and advise they should take the first empty overhead bin in coach that they can. Everyone is very polite and very patient. The flight attendant returns, and we seamlessly switch places.
I was feeling pretty cool about this until I was reminded of the constant Big Brother admonition: If you see something, say something.