Mike Morin

I was afraid I was going to become part of one of those airline passenger stories you’ve been hearing about lately. This one was different. The headline would have read, “Passengers settle politeness fight while lining up to board Southwest flight #6149. No punches were thrown.” The Manners Police were not needed as they have been the past couple years due to rude customers.

Getting your seat assignment on a Southwest flight reminds me of lining up for a pound of salami at the deli counter. Pick a number from the ticket dispenser and wait your turn. First come, first served. Your seat assignment is pretty much based on the order in which tickets were sold prior to the fight. I mean, flight. Then, with your ticket in hand, or on your mobile phone, you line up in numerical order. Simple concept, until someone messes up the predetermined order.

Such was the case on my way back to Nashua from a quick visit to Detroit last weekend. I was assigned 48th in line. As is often the case, people ask one another what their number is so they can queue up in order. I was asked by the woman behind me what seat assignment I held. I told her I was #48. Turns out she was #47. As such, I stepped aside so she could take her spot in front of me. She declined. I was shocked.

“No, really,” I insisted. “You should be ahead of me,” I said. I was stunned. I didn’t know how to handle kindness.

“Oh, no. I’m fine here.” I sensed she expected that there could be conflict where there was none. After one more try, I could not convince her to move ahead of me. People nearby were amused at such an unexpected display of civility. She also declined my offer to nominate her for a Nobel Peace prize for selflessness in a way that is becoming exceedingly rare.

Seat holder No. 47 wasn’t the only bright spot Monday afternoon at gate 24 at Chicago Midway. An off-duty uniformed Southwest pilot approached the gate agent and volunteered to help with customers in wheelchairs if needed. Sometimes a real log jam occurs while customers with disabilities take their turns boarding.

After my jaunt down the jet way to the aircraft, I did encounter a mildly cranky person, but I have to take the blame for it. I spotted a window seat in row 9 with a woman already holding the aisle seat.

“May I crawl over you to take the empty seat, please?”

“No. You may not crawl over me,” she smirked while rising to let me slink into my spot. I apologized for choosing my words poorly. Again, civil adults worked things out. In the course of 15 minutes, I witnessed three really nice people, working as a team, to get the plane filled without throwing a single punch. Southwest needs a new tag line:

“You are now free to practice the golden rule.”