NYTimes.com Article: Every Passenger Is a Potential Case Study

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Every Passenger Is a Potential Case Study

April 27, 2004





An airplane cabin is a fertile laboratory for the study of
social interaction. One time, the man next to me was
drooling and snoring. As usual, in my direction. I let my
tray fall with a clunk. I tried adjusting my seat. One
passenger gave me that "I feel bad for you" pout. Finally
when the drool on his chin reached high tide, I nudged him.
If I were in bed and this were my husband, I would have my
routine perfected. But if I know him only as the guy
sitting in 13B, do I have the right to wake him?

On another recent flight, my seatmate was coughing and
sneezing from the get-go, and out came the arsenal of cough
drops and tissues. I was thinking SARS; I wanted to kill
him. As we prepared to descend, he apologized and assured
me and the woman in the window seat that he was on the tail
end of the cold. I'm thinking, "In 20 minutes we're
landing, and now he chooses to apologize?"

Then he proceeds to tell us that his wife just served him
with divorce papers and he has to move out after this trip.
Suddenly he's transformed himself from annoying to
pathetic. And he's put this burden on us: not only are we
not allowed to be angry about his cold, but we have to
console him about his problems - which we did. Every detail
of his life we were sorting out for him. Miss Window Seat
was nicer than I was. Well, she was from Iowa.

Pilots, too, have their own style of choosing what bad news
they tell you. After a week of brutal weather in Chicago, I
was returning to New York and the pilot announced, "Good
morning, ladies and gentlemen. Currently the temperature in
New York is 3 degrees. You heard me right." It's a 6:45
a.m. flight, we're not even awake, and I'm thinking, "Do I
need a forecast?" I've also been on Chicago-bound flights
where the pilot announces that the wind chill there is 20
below, but "for you lucky people who are continuing on to
San Francisco, it's 62 degrees and sunny.''

Once on the way to Honolulu, the pilot told us that one of
the wheels didn't want to cooperate. What do you do between
California and Hawaii? Hour after hour over water. And I'm
thinking, "You really think we can help you get those
wheels down?''

Did you ever see that "Lucy'' episode where she wants to
bring home a big parcel of cheese from Europe, so she
dresses it up for the plane like a baby? I can't believe
some of the things that people carry on. There was a family
of four, and they were each schlepping two shopping bags,
plus toys and baby bottles. They commandeered at least four
overhead bins. For some people, deciding which bin to use
is like window shopping. Never mind that 50 people are
waiting behind them in the aisle.

But I marvel at businesspeople who can fold sports coats
and trench coats for the overhead bin as effortlessly as
subway riders fold The New York Times into one neat little
package. It's like Martha Stewart demonstrating how to fold
a fitted sheet. Recently, on the plane I noticed a young
man - with a fresh haircut, new-looking suit and shiny
shoes - who I imagined was going for an interview. When he
took off that trench coat and folded it, my impression was,
"If he's not already in business school, that's grounds for
admission right there."

As told to Francine Parnes.

http://www.nytimes.com/2004/04/27/business/27flier.html?ex=1084073908&ei=1&en=ff0df6fee1e9fcd7


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