My friend circle has just gotten a whole lot smaller. This is due to a betrayal and it’s breaking my heart. I’ve had a close personal relationship with this friend for decades, as in we’ve been through some stuff together, and out of the blue it feels like I’ve been told I don’t matter.
It’s been a lot to process and I’m uncertain if I’ll see my former friend, Southwest airlines, again.
Southwest I gave you space when you announced plans to abandon your “Hunger Games” boarding procedure but once you shared the demise of your two bags fly for free policy I knew it was over.
I get it. You caved to peer pressure. You wanted to make yourself like everyone else. Seat assignments, charging for bags and yet in doing so you’re losing what made you special.
None of this though can diminish the joy you brought me especially with your boarding policy. The only gambling I’ve ever done in my life has been with you.
Every time I bought a ticket I had to make the decision if I should pay for “Early Bird” to ensure I didn’t get stuck with a C boarding pass or just roll the dice and see if Lady Luck was with me.
Twenty-four hours before take-off I would be hunched over my phone. With my fingers crossed I would hit the check in button and stare at my screen to see what the “Southwest Slots” would bring me.
Would I be a winner and get an A boarding pass or would I make a bad beat and get C 60? No one wants to be that loser. It means showcasing your failure to all the seated passengers as you do the walk of shame to the very back of the plane and the middle seat of doom.
When I showed up at the airport and was at the gate I would make more bets. My favorite was how many people would pretend they couldn’t read their boarding pass and try to board with the A’s when they had a C. Double or nothing if upon being told they had a C boarding pass that person would say, “Well, we’re all going to the same place aren’t we?”
But even more dear to me than the gambling were the adventures we had together.
I’ll always remember a wintery February in the early aughts. It was almost midnight. We were forced to land at the San Jose airport due to weather conditions that were making it iffy to land in Reno. Babies were crying, adults were whining, it was a morass of moaning.
And then like in an action-adventure movie two Southwest pilots swaggered up to the gate. In my much romanticized memory one looked like Tom Cruise and the other had a Dwayne “the Rock” Johnson vibe. They took command of the situation and before you could say “get ready to board” we were on that plane.
It seemed like we were the only aircraft moving. The tarmac was silent and all the other planes were tethered to their jet bridges as if they had made an unconditional surrender to the weather. And yet there we were taking off.
My son, very young at that time, looked out the window and said to me, “I guess nothing stops a Southwest pilot.”
Okay, that kind of made me a little emotional. Honestly now I don’t know if I can abandon this friendship.
Sure, Delta seems nice and they have airport lounges but Southwest and I have a history. I guess what I’m saying is maybe we shouldn’t break up. At the very least we could try couples counseling. You know as long as couples counseling between a passenger and an airline isn’t another word for customer service.
✈️ 🛩️ ✈️
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