From parking spaces to seats on an airplane the divide between those who punch a clock and those who do not is evident in any and all venues. Let you violate the sanctity of one of these sacred places by attempting to cross their thresholds without the proper letters after your name, and you’ll be quickly slapped back into your place by either a felt curtain, or crisp parking violation…in most cases.
This was not the case for the passengers of an American Airlines flight that was making a connection in Phoenix Az. The family of fallen Army Sergeant John Perry was executing what some might argue one of the most miserable task a family can execute, traveling to retrieve the body of their slain son who’d been transported from Afghanistan (where he was killed) to Dover Air Force Base.
Fearing they might miss their connecting flight the pilot asked the passengers to remain seated while a “special military family” exited first. Upon hearing that they’d be waiting for slime military folk to exit the airplane, some of the first class passengers chose to boo the decision of the captain by doing exactly that, shaping their lips to resemble your organ most responsible for last step of defecation, while making a general low groaning sound, perhaps a similar sound they make when they find their housekeeper didn’t fold a nice triangle in their triple ply, sensitive tushy toilet paper. It’s not clear if the 1st class passengers knew they were complaining for having to wait on a Gold Star Family (a title reserved for families of those killed in combat), they did however know they were waiting on a military family for which they made their protest evident. Some were heard saying “this is just boloney, I paid for first class for this?”
Now aside from this being just another example of entitled American jackassary, the fact that the crew and passenger already knew there was a “special” military family on board should have tipped them off to something. You can’t board a flight in American without seeing at least one service member of sorts negotiating the total ineptitude of their third party contracted travel arrangements. This is an expression of the “my time is worth more than yours”, “you’re just a garbage military volunteer, I’m actually a productive member of society”, or “I work harder/better than you” attitude. Boo’ing a Gold Star Family is repugnant, but boo’ing a military family because they get to leave the plane 32 seconds before you do is par for the course in a country that views municipal, fast food, skilled trade, service, or otherwise hourly workers as brainless cattle that are to be tolerated, but seen as little as possible. By boo’ing that family (assuming they didn’t know they were a Gold Star family) they were boo’ing the people who manufactured the plush seats wide enough for their affluent asses, who served them bubbling Champaign as if flying from PHX to Philli was some kind of god damn black tie gala. They were boo’ing the folks who fueled the airplane, cleaned the bathrooms, or stared at the radar screen ensuring these giant metal cylinders didn’t collide with one and other a 500mph. Their boo’ing was more than an expressing of inpatients; it was I giant “fuck you, we’re better than you” to all of us who are not them. Let them boo. Let them boo when there’s no ramp worker to attach the climate controlled jetway to the airplane. Let them boo when there’s no baggage handler to make sure their pedigree $600 rolling suitcase gets to where it need. Let them boo when the airplane falls out of the sky like giant fucking lawn dart because there was no service technician to ensure the avionics were working correctly. And let them boo when none of us show up to work and they’re left holding the dish soap, nail gun, stop sign, or welding torch.