*Updated below*
Much of the time I am a people pleasing good girl to a fault. I also used to fly, a lot. (2013 is the first year since I was a small child that I did not get on a plane.) Nevertheless there have been a couple of times where I have behaved on an airplane in a way that, if you didn't know me you might have rolled your eyes at me, hard.
One of those trips might have been when I was returning home to California from a business trip in Connecticut. About a year prior, I was on another week-long business trip to New York and my dog Zoe got very sick, was at the emergency vet most of the time and nearly died. The vets and my sister who cared for her while I was gone believed that she only stayed alive to hang on to see me again. She lived and her health improved when I returned but she would respond only to me. Both because it was so scary to have that health scare while I was 3,000 miles away and because she wouldn't respond to anyone else, I began to bring her with me when I traveled. Since she was 3.5 pounds I could easily put her in a pet carrier under the seat in front of me.
On the Connecticut trip Zoe once again got very sick and I looked through the phone book to find a 24 hour emergency vet. I rushed her over there in the early morning hours. The vet told me that the only real option was to euthanize my beloved pet. Her heart was massively enlarged and her chances of surviving any treatment were slim. And, as the vet pointed out to me, since there was a very real chance that even if she did survive the remainder of my trip home, she could die on the cross-country flight home. In a carrier that I wouldn't be allowed to remove her from. I made the decision to put her to sleep but she died in my arms before the vet could administer the shot.
I was in Connecticut to moderate focus groups and led my first groups a few hours after I signed the paperwork to have Zoe cremated and have her ashes shipped to me. I thought I had covered up my red puffy eyes well with some quickly purchased Visine and makeup. I thought I had partitioned off my sadness, moved into powerful business lady mode and was ready to do my job. But I'm sure the shock and grief showed because I was almost fired from the job. I will always appreciate that I was allowed to continue working because it's how I cope. When I was in New York on September 11 I worked rather than watch the tragedy happening unfold.
When I went to the airport to return home I had to cancel the "excess baggage" allowance I had purchase. That's how you pay for the under seat space pets in cabin occupy. And then my flight was cancelled. And I was re-routed on three different flights and my six hour trip turned into 18 hours.
One time that I clearly remember being annoying on a plane was on another flight I was on because my scheduled flight had been cancelled. In my flying heyday I almost always flew first class through upgrades. Some, on occasion, given to me as a result of being nice to gate agents. I was in economy on the rescheduled flight and wait-listed for first class because too many first class upgrade passengers were now on the rescheduled flight. I would have to wait and see if I made the cut for the new ranked order of premiumness.
The airline called me but I couldn't get to my tucked away phone fast enough while we waited on the tarmac to get the logistics of the flight with a whole bunch of newly booked passengers on it sorted out. I saw the flight attendants plucking people around me for their upgrades. In my anxiety I told my row mates (I was in the middle seat) that I was hopeful to be upgraded which would then leave them with an empty middle seat - yay! Then I hit the button overhead to ring the flight attendant so I could ask (very nicely) if possibly the missed call was the airline calling to tell me I had been upgraded. It wasn't. It was an automated message telling me that my rescheduled flight was delayed. I didn't get an upgrade on that flight and fortunately the two men sitting on either side of me, though they were certainly entitled to mock my entitled behavior, and I wouldn't have blamed them if they did so in their minds, were kind and polite and we had an smooth, uneventful flight. They did not buy me drinks, send me passive aggressive notes and order me to suck their dicks. If they had I can't imagine I would ever slap them - I would be too afraid and behaviorally conditioned not to - but I can see how someone might get there.
On my trip home after Zoe's death I might well have been annoying or obnoxious or irritating. I don't know because I don't remember. I do remember being frustrated and near tears when I had to explain why I was cancelling and requesting a refund for my excess baggage and that was before the 18 hours of no-fun, trying to get home to my other dog, Gracie, waiting in airports and flights began.
Yesterday lots of people shared the [UPDATE: Now confirmed to be fake] Elan/Diane story. Some saw humor in it. Others found it not funny at all. Commenters in various places thought Diane deserved to be put in her place for being rude to the flight attendants and behaving so poorly in public and for being a weirdo who wears a face mask. Plus her totally bitch slapping Elan trumps his dick eating misogyny. Today the most linked story on my Facebook timeline is this one from Liz Dwyer at Los Angelista.
Liz tells a story about flying after her brother's death. I can't even imagine her pain.
"...about how after my brother's suicide the TSA people at LAX were going thru my bag and when they asked me if I had any money on me, I'd say no, and then the metal detector would go off and I was all, "I have no idea WHY that is going off...oh wait, is that money in my pocket?" And so they pulled me aside and were grilling me and I was finally like, look, my brother just died so I have no fucking clue what you're saying."
I agree with Liz's perspective. There are comments on her post from mostly anonymous commenters who don't and who are #TeamElan4evah. Nevertheless I hope Liz's closing thoughts are the ones people take away from this whole debacle. I hope my story can add to the call for not automatically judging people as the worst and maybe offering a little compassion first.
Also, I'd love to hear Diane's side of the story. I know I can't be the only one who's dying to hear it!
Maybe she's totally fine and just super eccentric and likes wearing face masks. Maybe she'll say "Yep, I was having a moment. Mea culpa." Regardless, we could all stand to have more empathy for each other, and it never hurts to step inside someone else's shoes. C'mon, Elan Gale, let's have less dick eating and more actual love and caring in the world. We could all certainly use it.
There are times when, no matter the story, action has to be taken. I was on a flight to London that was delayed for several hours because a passenger was seemingly drunk, yelling and running up and down the aisle. The flight attendants and the pilot came and talked to her and her husband several times before he finally threw his hands up and said "my wife is fucked up." With that the couple was removed from the plane by security and we were able to take off. I'm sure she had a story but at that point she was endangering the safety of other passengers. On the return flight a man screamed at a flight attendant because they had run out of the meal he wanted by the time the cart reached our row. He also got a talking to from the pilot and was detained when the flight landed. I am sure these three people had stories but their cases were handled in an appropriate manner. Alcohol and passive aggressive notes certainly would not have made the situation any better. Slapping might have ensued. But it sure would have been funny if it had been live tweeted!
What's your take on the Elan/Diane story? Do you agree with the try-a-little-tenderness-first #TeamEmpathy #TeamCompassion approach or do you think Diane deserved to learn that public tantrums are not acceptable? I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments. Debate and dissent are encouraged however attacks are not. I reserved the right to not publish any comments I find to be out of bounds.
Related must read: Kelly Wickham/Mocha Momma's take, "Pulling Back The Lens on #TeamElan"
Post linked below for an alternate point of view.
I assumed from the beginning that the tweets were a story, not a reality. The tone just seemed altogether too like a wish-fulfillment, esprit de l'escalier, what I wish I would have said. It was all tied up too neatly to be reality, which is messy and weird. But I thought his take on justice was mean and cruel.
My pastor talked one day about how to take a step toward forgiveness: realize that you don't know what is going on with the other person. That simple advice helped me forgive a manager who had made my life hell for years. Realizing that I would never know why she did what she did opened a door to letting her go from my brain, where she was taking up far too much space.
I try to remember that same advice when I meet Diane in 7A.
Posted by: Suebob | November 30, 2013 at 05:01 PM
Thank you, Sue for sharing your perspective and taking a moment to comment. Taking a step towards forgiveness rather than judgement can lower temperatures and lead to more positive outcomes.
And I agree with your take. I wouldn't be at all surprised if Elan's one-sided, unreliable narration (or the story by someone claiming to be Diane's cousin that she is a terminally ill cancer patient rushing home for one last visit to teach her nieces her secret stuffing recipe) turned out to be a wishful fantasy.
Posted by: ConsumerPop | November 30, 2013 at 05:45 PM