The answer is...

that's weird.

I found the perfect reply to a non-question question is to just say, "that's weird." It seems to satisfy the asker, and get me off the hook from doing anything about said question.

Example: Airplane is held at the gate for "minor maintenance," and a couple maintenance guys show up and board the plane, fuss with some doo-dad or another, and leave. Rampy tells flight attendant she can close the cabin door. Flight attendant tells Rampy that Maintenance is coming back. Rampy waits and waits, unloads another plane at another gate, goes back...nothing. Finally sees pilot come out of the plane and "not ask" where maintenance is with the flight book. (By "not ask," I mean, he says: "They took the flight book," (and cocks his head like a dog). Since Rampy has no radio, or clue as to who he'd call if he did, he looks at the pilot and says:

"That's weird."

It's the only way (for me) to travel.

Sweet success! Flew to Vegas and back for free! When you travel as a non-rev, you are at the mercy of the traveling public and the kindness of gate agents.

Leg 1 - MSP to LAS:

Ice-queen gate agent upgrades me to first-class. Who knew? 

(Broken) Leg 2 - LAS to MSP (11:55 Flight): Snot-bag gate agent is worthless on a flight I have no hope of getting on. Tells me she's sure I've been automatically listed on the next flight out (I wasn't), but can't check, because she pulled a sammich out of her ass that she couldn't wait to go eat. 

Leg 3 - LAS to MSP (2:30 Flight): Found a couple of very nice gate agents that get the whole "non-rev" thing, and ended up with a great Exit Row seat. They were as happy as me! 

Next time I fly, I'm bringing treats for the nice gate agents, and ass-sammiches for the mean ones.

You tell me.

I thought it was curious, and kind of annoying, that the TSA agent asked me if I had any liquids in my bag as I was sending it through the X-Ray machine.

I'll push you anywhere, as long as it's backward.

I think it's funny when pilots tell me what runway they're taking off from. It's not like it's going to change what I do. 

And if you look out the left side of the plane, you can see &%$#ing Hoover Dam.

Pilots swear. A lot.

Overheard at MSP.

I guess you picked the right career, then.

Not-so-pleasantly-plump TSA agent sitting in a chair: I'm not into the whole "fitness thing."

Where would you go...

 if you could fly anywhere for free? 

The previous owner was a little old lady who just flew it to church and back.

I've seen a couple of pilots kick the front tires when they do their "pre-flight walk-around," and it makes me think of someone buying a used car. I don't think it's part of the procedure, but lacking an obvious dent, leak or gaping hole in the side of the plane, it's the guy-way of thinking, "She'll do, she's got good rubber." 

Personally, I'd rather they wiggled the wings or ran a PlaneFax on it. As a passenger, I've never been all that concerned about the tires.

At least it wasn't on the new rug.

When they refill the water for the lav sinks, they know they're full when water shoots out of the overflow thingy on the bottom of the jet. It always makes me think that the plane is relieving itself. 

And then, of course, I have the sudden urge to pee.

Be patient, there's really no way there won't be a post about me peeing myself on the ramp.

Help is on the way, Ohio.

I get the whole "balance" thing when it comes to airplanes. You can't have one end way heavier than the other - makes for bad flying. They even put the numbers into a "computer," to make sure that everything's where it should be. 

What I don't understand, however, is the compulsive need for SkyWest and ComAir flights to require ballast on such a regular basis. I can't even remember what Mesaba and Pinnacle ballast looks like (and they fly the SAME planes), but I do know it's not a leaky bag of sand. It's a heavy piece of rubber with a logo stamped into it, so you know whose is whose. 

My theory is that SkyWest and ComAir are writing off their flights as "flood relief," by delivering sandbags to flood-prone areas, like Cincinnati. 

I just hope we don't have any flooding around here any time soon, because we're running out of sand.

We also have planes with propellers.

I can't believe I was the one to tell a more veteran co-worker that you can tell the difference between a CRJ and a CR9 by their winglets. She must be a really lucky guesser when she parks planes.

That would involve a much larger jet.

I think it's funny when passengers drop off their Planeside bags at the end of the jetbridge before boarding, and ask: 

"Is this where I'll pick up my bag when I land?"

Counting is easy when that's all you're doing.

If it's my turn in the bin, I have to count all of the luggage and other stuff loaded onto the airplane. No big deal, counting is pretty straight-forward - and the bins can't really hold more than 75 or 80 bags. You wouldn't think it would be difficult at all. But here's my brain stacking a 35 bagger:

"1, 2, 3, 4 - God that's an ugly bag, 5, 6 - oh great, here comes some of those huge-ass duffel bags, 7, must be from Wisconsin, 8, 9 - oops - that's a Heavy bag, 8 and 1, 9 and 1, 10 and 1, 11 and 1 - what's that down there? Freight? 12 and 1, 13 and 1, 14 and 1 - crap, it's another Heavy bag, 13 and 2, 14 and 2, 15 and 2 - how does that bag NOT have a Heavy tag on it? It's heavier than the 2 marked Heavy bags put together!, 16 and 2, 17 and 2, 18 and 2 - oh great, here come the golf clubs - where should I put those?, 19 and 2, 20 and 2, 21 and 2 - whew, cart's empty, I can take a breather while Mike switches them - where was I? Oh yeah, 21 and 2, 21 and 2, 21 and 2, Blackjack and a deuce, Blackjack and a deuce, Geez Vegas is fun, Blackjack and a deuce, baby! - here come more bags, 22 and 2, 23 and 2, 24 and 2 - gotta love car seats, 25 and 2 - here comes a Heavy bag, 26 and 2, 27 and 3, 28 and 3 - getting crowded in here, 29 and 3, 30 and 3, 31 and 3 - almost done, 31 and 3 - and now for the freight, 31 and 3 and 2 @ 75 pounds - I'll just fill in the bag card and we can close up the bin - done and done!" 

Of course, the second I fill in the bag card, the last bag shows up. 

Then it's on to the Planeside bags (or carry-ons, but that name implies you would, in fact, carry them on. Which some passengers do, insisting they'll fit in the overhead bin, which they never do - but we'll save that for another post).

The Planeside bags are easy to count, because they're not moving:

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 - how much time do we have? D'oh, I can't see the board from here, 7, 8, 9 - better hurry up, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14 - #$%& STROLLERS!, 15, 16, 17, 18. Counted and loaded, now just fill out the rest of the bag card, give it to the crew, and this bird is ready to fly."

Which is exactly when the gate agent signals that there were a couple of "carry-ons" that didn't fit in the overhead bin.

I think I do a pretty good job of counting for someone with my short attention span. Hey, puppies...

I'm kind of a big deal at the airport.

Okay, not really. But I do work there. And people seem to like my vantage point from the ramp, so here goes my first post on my new blog.

Consider it a peek into the underbelly of the airport and what's going on under your feet and outside, while you're impatiently waiting to board your flight to be abused by your flight attendant. 

My only goal is to amuse you (and myself) with my thoughts on what happens during my days on the ramp. Okay, my other goal is to convince you not to bring strollers when you travel. Seriously.

Okay, I guess we are clear to start. Let's get this pig in the air!