Flying is a Dante-esque experience for me. From the time I set foot in the airport through security and into the gut of the flying whale I descend slowly through the proscribed levels of hell. The only humor to be found is in the antics of my fellow passengers, humor, of course when it's not me at the receiving end. To sum up: flying sucks, and to follow that: it sucks less when you fly Jet Blue.
While there is certainly much to bitch about, I would say that more often than not the worst treatment one gets is from our fellow travelers. There's the guy who jumps ahead of you at the baggage screener as you put your shoes in the bin. There's the lady who runs over your toes with her roll-on as she cuts the line for boarding. And then there's the person who decides that their luggage has priority over yours in the overhead compartment. This is a story about that person (aka 'Pert Bitch') and their getting a nice helping of comeuppance.
Pert Bitch is 40ish with curly light brown hair. On the scrawny size with an oversized smile, Pert Bitch coyly asks the burly man in front of her to "help" with her oversized, overstuffed roll-on. "Oh it's so heavy," she breathes, "it has a big ol' laptop in it." Three people back in line I roll my eyes. It's clear that the bag won't fit in the space above her seat, there's already a bag there (of normal size) and a backpack. Burly guy tries to cram it in but can't, so Pert Bitch moves the backpack out of the way. Now of course there's no room for the backpack that had been there first. So what does Pert Bitch do? She tucks the bag in at the end of her behemoth suitcase and says out loud "We'll just let the stewardess figure it out." I roll my eyes again as I sit two rows back from all this commotion.
About two minutes later the Stewardess comes along and spies the protruding backpack, "Whose bag is this?" Pert Bitch doesn't answer assuming, incorrectly, that the bag in question was the backpack. "This green bag, whose is it?" Now Pert Bitch has to speak up, seeing as how the backpack was black. "Oh it's mine," she grins and tries the coy thing again. It so doesn't work.
"Your bag doesn't fit it has to be moved."
"Well what if I put it under my seat?"
"Will it fit under your seat?"
"I mean the backpack, I can put it under my seat."
"Is it your backpack?"
At this point the woman to whom the backpack belonged, a woman in the very first seat with no space to even stow a carry-on speaks up to claim the backpack and make it emphatically clear that she did NOT want her backpack under the other woman's seat.
"Well you need to move your bag to a space in the back," the Stewardess didn't make a move to haul the bag down, leaving that to Pert Bitch to manage. "Their bag was here first, and it's not fair." I swear I almost did a little jig in my seat. It was awesome seeing Pert Bitch struggling with her oversized beast, lugging it away. "Just wait until everyone else clears off the plane," the Stewardess said with just a hint of smugness, "then you can go back and claim your bag." Pert Bitch certainly wasn't so pert any more.
I kinda wish it had ended there, but when we landed, Burly Guy called back to what I assumed as a friend asking him to grab Pert Bitch's bag. I could tell from the response that his "friend" wasn't too thrilled with the idea of hauling a second bag along for the dumb twat that caused all the trouble in the first place. Luckily I left before the vignette concluded, imagining in my mind that the friend declined to help and that Pert and now Tired Bitch was left to struggle off, the last one up the jetway.
Regardless I give a hearty, two-thumbs up to Jetblue and the Stewardess that enforced order and sanity. Flying sucks enough, being put upon by our fellow travelers shouldn't make the trip worse than it really needs to be.