To the Concerned Management of Northwest and Pinnacle Airlines,
I recently returned from a short holiday in Iowa via your company’s Airlink service. Due to a number of mishaps with other airlines (namely Delta), I booked with Northwest because of its flexible schedules and affordable prices. All the workers were efficient and well-trained, loading the plane quickly and ensuring the comfort of the passengers, even those that were almost certainly dead. However, I experienced something that will forever cement Northwest as my airline of choice.
The first leg was utterly devoid of mistakes, but did not stand out to me with the same magnitude of the exemplary performance of your employees on the second flight. Within minutes of boarding the aircraft, we had been subjected to, count them, two entire flight safety speeches — one delivered by the automated system, and the same one delivered again by the flight attendant. After some quick math on my tray table (still in its full upright and locked position!) I calculated that this resulted in me feeling at least 200% safer than a normal flight.
Little did I know, this was just the beginning.
As I sat rigid in my chair and directed my attention to the front of the cabin to learn, once again, how to pull on the strap of the seat buckle to tighten it, an irresistible feeling of hilarity passed over me. Placing my fingers above my head like huge pointy spikes, I made, much to my horror now, a silly face at the flight attendant.
Immediately after she had finished the safety talk, she briskly walked to my seat and assertively informed me that “we’re going to stop that now, okay?”
I am forever indebted to this flight attendant, who saved me from what was certainly a bout of terrorist-like activity and could very well have lead to more drastic actions. I envision such atrocities as having undue interest in the operation of the wing outside my window or a passive inspection of the galley, all without my own awareness of my malefactions. The subliminal nature of today’s world is a frightening and dangerous thing, and I have already enrolled myself in government-run classes to help me control any further outbursts.
My only complaint with the flight was the flight attendant’s almost cavalier stance on another situation which arose. A young boy, perhaps 9 or 10 years of age, had seemingly innocently switched to the empty row behind him. However, this row was an exit row. While at a casual glance it may have looked that he was merely attempting to gain more legroom or reprieve from his brother, it became obvious to me that he was acting very suspiciously. In addition to changing seats to an exit row, he quietly began using what appeared to be a portable gaming device, even after being informed not once, but twice that this could interfere with the aircraft’s navigation and communication systems.
Needless to say, I was appalled.
Not at the boy’s parent, whose job it is not and should not be protecting fellow passengers, but instead the flight attendant’s reaction to what was quite obviously behavior consistent with that of a terrorist. She simply asked the boy to move back up. I firmly believe that in such a radical breach of given guidelines, the child should have been forcefully restrained and moved to the front of the plane where he could be more closely observed. Furthermore, I believe his belongings should have been confiscated until security professionals at the receiving airport could be summoned to inspect them.
Despite this brief indiscretion, I believe in the general upstanding nature of Northwest and its employees, and in their firm commitment to protecting me from both myself as well as my fellow travelers.
Sincerely,
Mr. Watson
(Which is not my real name, but may be used in return correspondence.)
(ED: To explain the title, Nasr, or “النصر ,” is Arabic for “Victory.” I think.)