JOHN: Hi.
He slides his driver's license across the table with a weary smile.
TRISH: Good morning sir.
She picks up the i.d. Types furiously. For the remainder of the conversation, her assault on a keypad will provide the background noise. She only stops typing to talk.
TRISH: And, let's see here, we have your reservation here, for the 7:05 to Boston...
TRISH: Will you be checking any bags today?
JOHN: Yeah. Just one.
TRISH: Alright...would you mind putting it on the scale there for me?
John puts it on the scale. It weighs thirty pounds.
TRISH: And how would you like to pay for the bag sir?
JOHN: With my ex-wife's credit card.
TRISH (not catching): Your total is fifty dollars.
JOHN: Fifty?
TRISH: Yes sir.
JOHN: That's half the price of my ticket.
TRISH: I guess it is, sir.
JOHN: Doesn't that seem a little ridiculous to you?
TRISH: It's our standard pricing, sir.
JOHN: Well then it's a ridiculous standard pricing. Does it cost money to use the seatbelt as well?
TRISH (ignoring): Would you like to pay with cash or card?
JOHN: Both.
TRISH: Both?
JOHN: Both. I want $49.99 on the card, and then I'll pay $0.01 in cash.
TRISH: Sir, if it's all the same to you, I think it would be easier to put the whole fifty dollar payment just on the card itself.
JOHN: It's not all the same to me. Because I want you, even for this brief moment, to understand the agony you miserable people put travelers like me through every fucking day. Just look at our situation. I have to pay the same amount for my bag as that 400 pound guy standing behind me will! Where's the justice in that? I could have seven of these bags strapped to my back and still not weigh the airplane down as much as King Kong over there! So why, by any application of logic, should I be charged the same amount as Godzilla over there, if I cost the airline less than he does? Even you, and our dense reasoning must be able to see that...
Luckily King Kong, who is actually named George, has his iPod headphones in. He doesn't hear this.
TRISH: Sir --
JOHN (won't be denied): Even worse, the only way I'm allowed to travel with wine or any liquid for that matter is to check it in, where it gets tossed around by your baggage handlers who feel the need to treat all luggage as if it were a goddamn bouncy ball. You know how many times I've opened a suitcase and all my clothes smelled like a fucking pinot noir? And once I finally manage to get on the goddamn plane, after all the mindless standing and waiting and being searched by those dense security experts who couldn't spot a terrorist unless they're wearing a sign and a turban, and I'm told all my "electronic devices" must be turned off for takeoff and landing. How does my operating an "electronic device" affect anyone else's safety? Or even my own? It doesn't! It's just another way you like to fuck with us, by making up these dumb, arbitrary rules that we have no choice but to follow. Fine. No electronic devices? Well what if I have a gas-powered chainsaw? Can I have that on during takeoff and landing? Or what about a solar-powered flame-thrower?
TRISH: Excuse me!--
JOHN: You see, thousands of people like you wake up every day, squeeze into their uniform, and work at a job that is appealing only because it gives you some semblance of authority. You like that feeling, you relish it, because in every other aspect of your life you get walked over by people like me. People who don't need a uniform and a badge to be respected and listened to. Just know this: if you were to quit, retire or by the grace of god get hit by a bus, NO ONE WOULD CARE. Because you are just a replaceable part in the machine of tedious inefficiency. To be blunt madam, you remind me of a mosquito, only slightly more annoying. And the longer I'm around you, the more I hope I can open up a window and you'll fly out of it and disappear and go pester someone else.
Trish is stunned.
JOHN: Here's my card.
Takes the card. Runs it. Hands it back to him.
John puts it back in his wallet. Turns to walk away.
TRISH (smirking): Sir?
John stops. Turns around.
TRISH: You still owe one cent.
John smiles. Reaches for his wallet.
JOHN: Of course...
He pulls out a $100 bill. Sets it on the table.
JOHN: I'm going to need some change.
....
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