My people

Kris and I flew out to Arizona tonight to spend the weekend with my brother. He doesn't know it yet (and I won't be posting this blog until after this), but he's going to have a surprise party tomorrow, with his entire family singing happy birthday to him. Screaming the happy birthday song to him, if I have any say (scream?) in the matter.

Recently, Jessica asked me to check her in for her flight, as she wasn't going to be around a computer 24 hours before she was to fly out, and would miss the opportunity to be in the front of the first boarding group with Southwest. Since I would be in front of the computer (hell, when was I ever NOT in front of a computer, or with handy bluetooth wireless modem access to the Intarweb™, I mean, come on!), I checked her in to her flight, and she managed to be A24. Given that A1 - A20 is reserved for people who pay extra to board first, I did pretty well with that obsessive clicking to get her in at the beginning.

That check-in for her gave me the practice I needed to check myself in for tonight's flights. I had my browser poised and ready for a quick check-in, testing the server times with a few early attempts to make sure I was in the front of the virtual check-in line.

I improved my lot, and I was A23! Whoo!

My second check-in, which was for Kris, wasn't as good, and he boarded at A34. He had the opportunity to board with me, but chose to wait at A34 instead.

As I walked up to the designated section in line, I noticed that most of the people in line wouldn't meet my eye. They looked away as I attempted to talk to them. After a moment, I noticed they were all also covering up the numbers on their boarding passes. What the hell? was about all I could wonder, until I realized that they were standing so that I wouldn't be able to find my place in line and actually BE IN FRONT OF THESE PEOPLE.

Being A23 meant I should be the third in line, behind A21 and A22, the two of them were in a gap after the first seven people who did pay extra to board first. Instead, I was about 7th back, because no one was willing to share his number AND all of them were standing in the A21-A25 section, instead of the A26-A30 section where some of them should have been.

I looked at my fellow passengers and realized, too, that these paunchy, aging, balding, type-A personality, fat men were the same people who hovered over their keyboards exactly 23.6 hours before, AS I HAD DONE, hitting submit-submit-submit-reload-submit, to ensure each of them, too, received a good boarding number.

I can't believe I'm associated with these people.

I'm so embarrassed.