A couple things.
Firstly – I’m at somewhat of a standstill after having the out-of-town company last weekend and birthday this past weekend. Both excuses to be a little naughty and I’m not one to pass up opportunities like those. However, I’ve managed to still get up on the stepper most days and that’s where the danger comes in, when I stop exercising. It’s been nice to realize (again) I can still make time for it even when the routine gets disrupted like it has been. For me it’s about how badly I want it and I do.
Secondly – The Kevin Smith/Southwest Airline debacle. If you haven’t heard of it, you must not have the internet, but the basic story is this (in his words):
Had three seats/whole row for me & Jen. She skipped SF, so I went solo checked in and was given the 2 tix there & return 2 (for that p.m.). Going out, even with 2 tix, I only sat in one seat, sleeping against window, w/empty seat between me and follow passenger. Coming back would have been the same, at 7pm. But I got to the airport early enough to try to bump-up my flight to 5:20 – a practice @SouthwestAir does often.
I was told 5:20 flight was packed, but I could go Standby. They sent me to gate. Told lady whole story, and she said there wouldn’t be two seats on that earlier flight. I said I only needed one seat & that I didn’t buy an extra seat because I’m fat (which I am), but because I’m anti-social and didn’t want to sit next to someone & possibly have to make convo (in person, I’m very shy). She said she understood. I was issued the solo ticket. I get on the plane: open seat in the front row. Put my bag away, the sit between two ladies. As I’m about to buckle my extender-less seatbelt, the woman who issued the ticket to me appeared in the doorway of the plane, came over to me and said the Captain said I wasn’t going to be allowed to sit there because I was a safety risk. I asked for clarification and was given none (also asked “Please don’t do this” but that, too, fell on deaf ears.
Ladies on either side said I wasn’t a problem. SWA-lady said arm-rests the decider. Arm-rests come down, and voila! I’m legit! I’ve passed the stinkin’ arm-rest-test. And still, the lady asks me to get up and come with her off the plane. I get up without a fuss at all, quietly grab my bag, make eye contact with a fellow Fatty who was praying he’d pass, and leave. You think I wanna f— around on an airplane? I was right: I fit in that seat. But I can’t risk not complying: I’m more afraid of AirFeds. (via Twitter)
Okay. After a few hours of stewing over this, I think I might have finally calmed down enough to comment. No. No I haven’t. This is bullshit, plain and simple. And the fact people are accusing him of pulling the celebrity card? I’m one in a million of his fans, just another helpless clod who can’t do anything really, about any injustice in the world, not really. All I can do is never fly Southwest again and pass this story along to as many people as I can. A shame really; they’ve been the airline I’ve used most in the last ten years, not only because I have a good friend who works for them and therefore have gotten to take advantage of some free and reduced-rate flying, but also because they seemed like a company with good ethics and even I daresay some morals. But, no. I should’ve known better.
Sometimes I just hate the world.