Okay, the "Comments Weekend" contest is being called early. My buddy Sean sends in this wild but sad and true story from LA. Rather than let it sit in the Comments section where you might not read it, I decided to place it in a post. For your reading pleasure, here's his story:
What Airline Would Jesus Fly?
It was any gay couple’s worst nightmare; stuck in the George Bush International Airport for nine hours. Thank GOD we had Gilmore Girls Season 2 DVD’s on Rob’s laptop with dual headphones. We set up camp in front of the Barnes and Noble (a retail beacon for homosexuals worldwide) and used our complimentary “we’re sorry we messed up your flight royally” meal vouchers (a whopping $6 each) on Starbucks coffee.
That lasted two hours.
We asked if we could go to the President’s Club to relax and were told it was for members who pay for the privilege, not for people who miss their flight. The truth is we didn’t miss our flight. The airline screwed up our connection and after an hour at the “customer service” desk, we were able to secure seats on a flight nine hours later. But the customer service rep kept insisting we missed our flight. How could an equipment delay be our fault? But he just stuck with that story over and over. “I’m sorry, there’s nothing we can do for people who miss their flights. I’m sorry you missed you flight.” Robotically repeating the same lie regardless of the obvious facts and I thought- he sounds like a Republican.
It occurred to me then that our Las Vegas based, Democrat fanatic friend Donna may actually be right. There are evil minions afoot in this country, a Republican Conspiracy targeting intelligent people (well… Democrats) in a coordinated effort to make our lives a living hell. The problem is, these automatrons act so dumb and smile so big, it’s hard to pin them down for the devious creatures they really are.
After sitting in the terminal people-judging (I mean, people-watching), a few rounds of the he’s-cute-do-you-think-he’s-gay game, and two trips outside and back through security for a lousy cigarette, we wasted seven more hours and were ready to board our flight out of the red state and back to civilization. Los Angeles. An expert at getting the most out of anyone behind a counter, Robert was upgraded to first class. I had a nice seat in coach on an exit row (a.k.a. the “no children” row) so I couldn’t complain. But I did.
“Why are we being delayed?” I asked my flight attendant with the Tammy Wynette hair and cheap, fake nails. We’d been sitting on the plane 30 minutes at the gate after our take-off time. Hell, we already waited nine hours. I was ready to go home.
“Oh, we’re not delayed, honey,” she lied in her thick, Texas accent, “we’ll make up the time in flight.”
Unconvinced, I asked if I could see my partner in first class to tell him to call our ride and let them know we’d be late. “You’re, uh.. partner?” she asked, mascara eyelashes fluttering.
“Yeah, he’s in first class.” I started to get up. “You need to stay in your SEAT, sir,” she said sternly. I went from “honey” to “sir” in one swift mention of the word “partner.” Here we go, I thought.
We waited an additional 30 minutes when the pilot’s voice finally came on informing us they were delayed due to late luggage. They’d hold a plane an hour for late luggage, but not 15 minutes for us; two late passengers trying to make a connection nine hours earlier? Hmmmm.
Was there a conspiracy here? The longer we stayed in Houston, the more apparent it seemed to become. I hit my flight attendant light and a squat blonde girl with a gold cross dangling below her chins came over to me.
“If we’re going to be an hour late, I want to let my ride in LA know that, but my partn- uh, my friend in first class has the cel phone. I just need to get it from him.”
“Oh, we’re about to take off any moment sir. You need to stay in your seat. I guess you must not fly very much or you’d know you may spend some extra time on the ground before takeoff.” Condescending little-. I decided to let it go. But they had already marked me for torture.
Once we were airborne and drinks were being served, I asked for a beer and a bottled water. The one with the chins told me I could get a beer now, and wait for the second beverage service for the water. What was that? She was serving with Tammy Wynette. They both smiled viciously. Later when I asked for a blanket and a pillow, the chins told me to just “sit tight now” and disappeared for an hour. I finally got up and found them both in the galley. I asked about my blanket and pillow.
“Oh, shoot,” she said in mock remorse, “I handed out the last ones just two minutes ago. You need to return to your seat, sir.” She turned to Tammy Wynette and they shared that secret, Christian Republican smug look.
We finally touched down and approached the gate. But before I could unbuckle my seatbelt, chins waddled over and handed me two little cards. “Here,” she said, “you need these.” They were Universal Designs “Pass it on” Message Cards. One read, “Put all of your sickness, your sins your disease in HIM and He shall lead you to the light- or else, stay suffering in the darkness in which you reside”. The other read, “If you confess with your mouth ‘Jesus is Lord’ and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”
I guess they considered me sick, diseased, sinful and in desperate need of saving. While deplaning, I stopped at the door to ask Tammy Wynette if it was appropriate for airline staff to hand out religious propaganda to passengers. She looked at the card and said, “Well now sir, she was just being nice. Why ever do you think being nice is inappropriate?” I explained again that this was religious material. She fluttered her goopy eyelashes again and said, “Well, it says ‘God Bless You’ on our dollar bill.” It was like talking to a Stepford wife, I swear to Go- I swear to Calvin Klien.
Suddenly, she snatched the card from my hand (I still have the scar from her Lee Press On Nails) and quickly put it in her pocket. The senior flight attendant from first class came over to ask if everything was alright. When I explained the situation again, Tammy Wynette said to my amazement, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.” Hmmm, bold faced lying. Is that a Christian value? Luckily, I had the second card with me as evidence and produced it for the senior flight attendant. “Oh now see?” Tammy cried, “He’s been a problem the whole flight and now he’s passing out religious materials!”
I felt like I was in an episode of the Twilight Zone. Clearly she was hell-bent on implicating me in this heinous crime. Hmmm, false accusations and twisting the truth. Is that a Republican value? (Bill Clinton). The senior flight attendant seemed concerned and said she’d never worked with these two flight attendants before. I asked how I could file a complaint and she gave me a form. I asked for their names and Tammy refused to tell me. The senior flight attendant told her to provide me with their first names. She did finally, then she asked me for mine. “Quinn,” I lied “Q-U-I-N-N.” She wrote it down on something, perhaps to use in some Right Wing Christian voodoo ritual.
I still have the business cards as a reminder that it is not safe out there, and that as long as George W. Bush holds office, the conspiracy will continue to gain strength and grow. We were lucky to escape Houston at all. Next time, we’ll fly through Chicago. In the meantime, support Democracy, avoid the red states and ask yourself, seriously, “What airline would Jesus fly?” Then turn the other way.
