I was hunkered down at Gate C21 next to a very pathetic-looking Christmas tree—patchy, weak light job, zippo presents. The agent behind the desk was singing—off-key and to the tune of “Good King Wenceslas”—that our flight had been delayed another 30 minutes. These days, airline companies know that every customer interaction teeters on a razor-thin edge between viral-marketing sensation and disaster. Thus, flight attendants increasingly serve ginger ale and peanuts while beatboxing or relay the essential features of seatbelt safety with winking double entendre and ironic sexy lunging.
I waved, trying to catch the young mother’s attention, and asked, with profuse midwestern apology, if she had happened to see the package sitting there before.
“What’s going on here?” the lead TSA agent barked.
Instinctively I smashed the like button—3,097 and counting. v
