by Paul Edwards
It’s 1 o’clock in the morning. The Fort Lauderdale Airport is eerily quiet. There is the sound of a distant vacuum cleaner and, far, far away, there is the sound of receding footsteps. As usual I have waited politely and am the last person off the plane which is hours late. As I materialize out of the jetway, the agent of the airline which I will mercifully not name asks, “Is somebody meeting you here?”
Since there are miles and miles that I must go before I sleep, I restrain myself from the flip response that springs unbidden to my lips, “Do you see anyone, Sir?” Instead I am patient. I indicate that I have requested assistance to get me to a place where I can arrange transportation home. I indicate that I will understand if it takes a few minutes. I am polite. I am meek and mild. I am well-behaved.
The agent says, “I’m the only one here! What do you expect me to do, grow extra hands, clone myself? You people always think that all you have to do is snap your fingers and everybody will bend over backwards to help you! You just shouldn’t travel alone. In fact, you shouldn’t travel at all if you can’t get around.”
Well, that did it! I grabbed the handle of my single carry-on, and took off. I flat out didn’t need to hear this kind of garbage from somebody whom I felt I had treated appropriately. So “me and my suitcase” walked off into the moonset, hotly pursued by an irate agent.
“Where do you think you’re going? Watch out!” (There’s a helpful phrase, by the way!) “You can’t just walk off. I’m responsible for you. I could lose my job. Wait! Stop! Please ...”
You get the picture. So long as we are docile and dependent, it’s OK to abuse us! If we show a shred of competence or initiative, we are stepping out of character, and endangering stereotypes, and maybe even jobs as well. Without belaboring the point, the agent apologized to the point of nausea and stayed with me till transportation was arranged, something I would never have expected him to do. During our somewhat lengthy time together, I was treated to a long diatribe on the shortcomings of “you people.” In his case, “you people” included the lame, the blind, the obese, the rude, the impatient and all children. Perhaps we should amend the ADA so it includes all his categories. We could win some elections.
This paragon of American tolerance was an extreme case; however, I would be lying to you if I didn’t admit that travel is stressful. It isn’t just a question of getting from point A to point B. It’s a question of negotiating the human mine fields you must pass through along the way. I now ask where the gate is every time I get to the area and also make sure I know where the counter is. I have very nearly missed planes because I have been forgotten. When gate changes happen, do not assume that you will be remembered. Naps are not allowed. They are too dangerous.
Once on the plane, there is a law that says that my seatmate cannot fit into his or her seat. He or she immediately declares war for possession of the arm rest. This skirmish is, by the way, often very subtle. I begin with an advantage because when my seatmate arrives, I have possession. That is soon dissipated, however, because my arm is deemed not to exist and its arm gradually occupies more and more of the armrest territory until my peaceable little arm is routed and forced to flee the field ignominiously.
I always ask for the window seat so I don’t have to get up every time the occupant of the window seat needs to get up and move around the cabin. I engage in ongoing warfare over vents. Seatmates often think that I am deaf as well as blind so they can turn mine off when they get too cold and I won’t notice. I just turn it back on which tends to create more than one kind of chill.
Flight attendants come in two main flavors. One flavor tries to pretend I don’t exist. This sometimes extends to pretending I am sleeping or invisible when serving drinks or snacks and always excludes me from information I normally like to have such as where the nearest exit is. The second flavor of flight attendant is the one who abides by the letter of the law. This flavor begins by shouting so the poor blind man can hear OK. The magic braille book is brandished, proffered and accepted. Even though I have read it a thousand times by now, and even though it contains no information which is otherwise not provided during the briefing, I take it. It is easier to do that than to be informed that federal regulations require me to read it.
I created quite a stir once by asking the flight attendant if she had read it and was aware of how useless it was. An extreme member of the aggressively solicitous flavor of flight attendant chided me for not reading the whole book. Apparently she had nothing better to do than to stand in fascinated awe as the blind man perused the sacred document. I was only allowed to hand back the book when I assured her that I did not understand German or Portuguese and would therefore not be able to benefit from the wisdom to be found buried in those versions of the document. I assured her that I had read the English, French and Spanish versions and she was temporarily mollified. This flavor of flight attendant is apt to serve you a glass of beverage and not give you the can. She is also likely to open your peanuts before spilling them on your lap and frequently will open every container on your lunch tray whether you want to use it or not.
Lest I be misunderstood, let me say categorically here that I could not travel without the help of others and that I truly do appreciate all of those folks who have lent me a hand along the way. Let me also say that I am often pleasantly surprised by the kindness and appropriateness of much of the help. Let me add, too, that I have always made it where I was going and I would not have done that without assistance.
I should also be sure to say that I am treated the way I am partly because of other people with disabilities who do not behave appropriately. They demand too much, never say thank you and expect to be accorded royal treatment as a right bestowed by their disability. I have shuddered as the patience of even the most saintly flight attendant is tried by people, only some of whom are disabled, who treat attendants like servants rather than professionals.
I know that many of you who are reading this message now have just returned from the convention and probably have your own horror stories to tell. In a very real sense, the travel community is like our society. It is a microcosm of our larger America. Many have a lot to learn and we have a lot to teach. When all is said and done, we get there. That’s a tribute to the travel industry and to us! When you are packing for your next trip, the only item you must not forget is your sense of humor. Without that, the stress will get to you and you may well feel compelled to hijack the plane!