The boarding process understandably lacked smoothness, given the fact that one person was in charge of all aspects, beginning with checking boarding passes. The plane filled up. I had the aisle seat. The lady in the window seat had a large white dog. The middle seat was unoccupied and so I thought that, even with the unheard of act of the regulation days of a dog sharing space with regular passengers, the middle seat might be vacant. This was not so on a plane destined to be filled to bulging capacity.
Toward the end of the boarding process a young Ethiopian man now making his home in Seattle entered the plane. His soft, quiet manner disguised the surprise and discontent he felt when he found himself sharing space between myself, the lady, and her large dog. The only positive note was that he was a short man of slender build. What if we'd had a giant?
Since the flight took off later than anticipated for reasons earlier mentioned, I became concerned whether I would be able to catch the Puget Sound Transit Train that services the area between the airport and downtown Seattle. I asked the two female flight attendants servicing my area if they knew how long the trains ran. They said they did not and that I should speak to Frontier customer service personnel once we landed.
When alas we finally did land I asked not one but two Frontier Airlines customer service personnel that question. They were delighted to tell me that even though we had passed the 11 p.m. mark that I had plenty of time since Sound Transit operated its trains until 12:30.
After picking up my one traveling bag I was on the escalator heading toward the exit that would eventually take me to the embarkation point for the train that would hopefully take me to downtown Seattle, where I could then catch a night owl local bus for home.
I then heard an announcement on the airport public address system. The final train for the evening was now embarking for downtown Seattle. Transportation would then resume at 5 a.m. It was 11:10 p.m. as the announcement was made. As I made my way outside I saw the train pulling away.
In my deep frustration I went back into the airport to see if the shuttle bus service that runs between the airport and a series of downtown Seattle hotels was still operating. I learned that it had also shut down for the night.
Suddenly a familiar face loomed. It belonged to my Ethiopian traveling companion. I explained my plight. He exclaimed his disgust over the situation to which he had been subjected with the presence of the large dog in the regular seating area, leaving him cramped for space.
"I will never travel with Frontier Airlines again!" he declared.
"They won't be getting anymore business from me, either," I assured.
How did I get home? The only alternative was a taxi, a $50 ride from the airport to my Queen Anne home located near Seattle Center.
So there you have it, a current story from the delightfully privatized morning in America that Ronald Reagan and his economic idol Milton Friedman envisioned for us, and that plays out as mourning in America.
For those of you who were dazzled by Reagan's smile and style, do you feel better off now than when he arrived on the American political scene?
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