Thank the Lord that I ensnared Gordon O'Neil into marrying me. Amongst many other saintly qualities, he is the voice of reason and logic when I am the voice of irrationality. He is the steering rudder to our boat when I am more like the sail who gets full of wind and runs aground.
Today, he acts as the Good Cop in my Good Cop/Bad Cop Routine. This morning, I was attempting to deal with an insurance adjustor who is being disagreeable and irritating. He really pissed me off. And so, in typical fashion, I cut him off mid-sentence as he was explaining to me why they weren't going to pay for the damage. I told him that he had jerked me around for the last time and that he would be hearing from my attorney. Then I hung up on him. (P.S. I don't have an attorney. I just said that for effect.)
Then I had to call Gordon and tell him how furious I was. He laughed and asked me to please cease and desist in following up on any other outstanding problems, at least until tomorrow. Lovely man that he is, he also agreed to call the insurance adjustor back, explain that his wife is a little mental and see if we can find a way to work it out.
He's one in a million, that Gordon O'Neil.
Wednesday, October 26, 2011
Friday, October 21, 2011
To Recline Or Not To Recline...This is The Question.
Anyone who has ever spent more than 13 minutes on an airplane has an opinion on this issue. In a world where passengers are dealing with constantly curtailed comforts, do you have a right to recline your seat?
Since you are reading my blog, you clearly care about my opinion. So I'm sending it your way. Of course you have the right. You purchased the ticket, which includes the ability to raise or lower your tray table, your arm rest, and recline your seat. But should you?
In my opinion, polite people do not recline their chairs. When you recline your chair, you are robbing me of a few square inches of my space. I purchased that space. It belongs to me. And there is PRECIOUS LITTLE of it. By reclining your chair into my airspace, you are making a very clear statement that your comfort is of a higher priority than mine is.
Of course, I could always just recline my own chair, and steal someone else's space to make up for your rude and self-centered behavior. But we all know that two wrongs don't make a right. And what about that poor sap at the very end of the plane, already stuck with the injustice of sitting in front of the lavatories? They don't get the option of reclining their chairs, so the buck stops with them.
Because my parents raised me right, I refuse to recline my chair. I can honestly tell you that I have never done it. Not even on the flight home from Anchorage, Alaska, in the middle of the GD night. The flight that had about fourteen layovers, a total travel time of 14 hours, and a lost bag? The one that left me dissolved in tears at the baggage claim, where Gordon had to park the car and come scrape me off the pavement because I just couldn't bear the exhaustion any longer. Yes, that was a memorable one. I didn't recline my seat because I was raised to be considerate of other people.
On a recent flight from St. Louis, this issue became a serious matter. I'll preface this story by saying that I sometimes become so fixated on a small issue that it takes over my entire soul and I become single-minded in exacting revenge of the offender. That happened on this occasion. Gordon and I were flying home from St. Louis, it was a relatively short flight, an hour and a half or so. Before the plane even took off, three young-20-ish individuals reclined their seats, invading our space. Those of you who know my husband know that he NEEDS every square speck of space that he can get. He's not compact. So as the seconds ticked by, I became more and more engulfed with fury over their rude behavior. I'm not afriad to admit that it was a little ridiculous. And somewhat miserable. I'm not kidding you when I say that it was a full-scale war. Somewhere over mid-Missourri, I got a little tired of my mission, but it was too late to give in. I dug my toes onto the crack of their chair so hard that my feet ached. About every three to four minutes, I reached down into my carry on and banged it against the back of his chair in a very abrupt manner. In between surprise attacks, I pushed my knees into the back of their chair so hard that my quads were positively aching. With every offense, the offender would shift slightly, press against my knees and glare through the crack of the seat. That's how I knew my efforts were not in vain, and what fueled my fury to keep at it! To stop the attacks at that point would have been a weak move, a surrender. And Bethany Heather Willard O'Neil is not one to surrender. Duh.
Anyway. So what I'm saying is that I hate recliners. And woe is the soul who invades my space (or Gordon's) on an airplane. You will be very, very sorry. I'm little, but I'm not afraid to poke a pencil through the crack of your seat.
Am I unreasonable? Well, don't answer that. It's a foregone conclusion. But how do you feel about seat recliners? Is it offensive, or is it your right as an airline passenger?
And P.S. I'm looking for your response, Mrs. Malvini-Redden!
Since you are reading my blog, you clearly care about my opinion. So I'm sending it your way. Of course you have the right. You purchased the ticket, which includes the ability to raise or lower your tray table, your arm rest, and recline your seat. But should you?
In my opinion, polite people do not recline their chairs. When you recline your chair, you are robbing me of a few square inches of my space. I purchased that space. It belongs to me. And there is PRECIOUS LITTLE of it. By reclining your chair into my airspace, you are making a very clear statement that your comfort is of a higher priority than mine is.
Of course, I could always just recline my own chair, and steal someone else's space to make up for your rude and self-centered behavior. But we all know that two wrongs don't make a right. And what about that poor sap at the very end of the plane, already stuck with the injustice of sitting in front of the lavatories? They don't get the option of reclining their chairs, so the buck stops with them.
Because my parents raised me right, I refuse to recline my chair. I can honestly tell you that I have never done it. Not even on the flight home from Anchorage, Alaska, in the middle of the GD night. The flight that had about fourteen layovers, a total travel time of 14 hours, and a lost bag? The one that left me dissolved in tears at the baggage claim, where Gordon had to park the car and come scrape me off the pavement because I just couldn't bear the exhaustion any longer. Yes, that was a memorable one. I didn't recline my seat because I was raised to be considerate of other people.
On a recent flight from St. Louis, this issue became a serious matter. I'll preface this story by saying that I sometimes become so fixated on a small issue that it takes over my entire soul and I become single-minded in exacting revenge of the offender. That happened on this occasion. Gordon and I were flying home from St. Louis, it was a relatively short flight, an hour and a half or so. Before the plane even took off, three young-20-ish individuals reclined their seats, invading our space. Those of you who know my husband know that he NEEDS every square speck of space that he can get. He's not compact. So as the seconds ticked by, I became more and more engulfed with fury over their rude behavior. I'm not afriad to admit that it was a little ridiculous. And somewhat miserable. I'm not kidding you when I say that it was a full-scale war. Somewhere over mid-Missourri, I got a little tired of my mission, but it was too late to give in. I dug my toes onto the crack of their chair so hard that my feet ached. About every three to four minutes, I reached down into my carry on and banged it against the back of his chair in a very abrupt manner. In between surprise attacks, I pushed my knees into the back of their chair so hard that my quads were positively aching. With every offense, the offender would shift slightly, press against my knees and glare through the crack of the seat. That's how I knew my efforts were not in vain, and what fueled my fury to keep at it! To stop the attacks at that point would have been a weak move, a surrender. And Bethany Heather Willard O'Neil is not one to surrender. Duh.
Anyway. So what I'm saying is that I hate recliners. And woe is the soul who invades my space (or Gordon's) on an airplane. You will be very, very sorry. I'm little, but I'm not afraid to poke a pencil through the crack of your seat.
Am I unreasonable? Well, don't answer that. It's a foregone conclusion. But how do you feel about seat recliners? Is it offensive, or is it your right as an airline passenger?
And P.S. I'm looking for your response, Mrs. Malvini-Redden!
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