=20 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- This article was sent to you by someone who found it on SF Gate. The original article can be found on SFGate.com here: http://www.sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?file=3D/chronicle/archive/2002/07= /01/DD109914.DTL ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Monday, July 1, 2002 (SF Chronicle) Flexible fares for airplane passengers Jon Carroll SOME AIRLINES RECENTLY announced that they would charge obese people for two seats if said people required two seats. This was seen as common sense in some quarters and as discrimination in other quarters. A third quarter was lodged in a parking meter and unable to respond. My question is: Why stop there? There are many people who take up more than their share of physical, mental or emotional space on airplanes; they should likewise be charged for at least two seats. Maybe three. The kid behind me who kicks my seat from here to Denver -- he should have to pay for my seat. I would be happy to point him out to the authorities. If he's traveling with his parents, they should be required to pay the "overly indulgent surtax," a penalty that could be applied in many situations. With rigorous enforcement of the overly indulgent surtax, airlines could run in the black again -- or America's parents might start paying attention. Either way, we're ahead. Then there's laptop guy. You have undoubtedly experienced this human. As soon as the seat belt sign goes off, he's got the tray table down and the laptop booting. He also has numerous business documents to which he must constantly refer, perhaps an annual report or two, certainly a flow chart. All that paraphernalia won't fit in his tiny seat area, so it begins to overflow. He always has an aisle seat, of course, because the glare from the window is bad for the computer screen. And God forbid if anyone should want to, say, prevent incipient blood clots by moving around the cabin. Heavy sighing, ostentatious gathering up of documents, grimaces -- the master of the universe is displeased. Of course, if he were really a hotshot, he'd be up there in business cla= ss with all the people who know the breakfast menu at the Marriott better than they know their own children. He pays double, at least. THEN THERE'S THE unprepared traveler. Somehow it has never occurred to h= er that spending 4.5 hours in an airplane might require something to do -- a book, some knitting, a crossword puzzle, anything. She leafs though the in-flight magazine. She asks the flight attendant h= ow long before the movie starts. She stares at her hands. And then she tries conversation. With you, her neighbor. Often, it turns out that she has opinions about France (overrated), Bill Clinton (a liar), Drew Carey (so funny) and dreadlocks (dirty). The male version of the unprepared traveler often mentions how the cards are stacked against the little guy, and tells you how he happened to lose his last job. It was not his fault; we can be clear about that. Nothing stops the flow. Were you to say, "I'm going to St. Louis to have my stomach removed," it would make no difference. Triple fare for this person. THERE ARE MANY other offenders. There's the guy who's unhappy with his middle seat and will spend half the flight trying to get you to change places. There's the woman who falls instantly into a drugged sleep and begins to claim territory not officially ceded to her. There's the guy who seems nice enough until the drink cart comes along, when he whispers confidentially to the flight attendant that it would "save everyone a lot of trouble" if he just bought four Johnny Walker bottles now. "Come on, hon," he will remark. Then there's the person with the friend three rows back. The friend will get up and stand in the aisle, leaning over to converse with his chum. Often there will be hilarity involved, and perhaps calls for a third person to join them in jolly talk. Since their sheer enthusiasm and volume includes as many as three rows of involuntary auditors, I'd say make 'em buy all the seats in the section. Candidly now: That is the most boring headline I've ever written. Apologies. If I had five days to live, I'd give up three of them to spend the other two with jcarroll@sfchronicle.com.=20 ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Copyright 2002 SF Chronicle