When applause means more than, “You didn’t kill us!”

It was kind of like this. But in a bigger plane.

I flew to LA yesterday for work, and I’m about to say something that (I’m sure) will jinx me: I. Had. The. Best. Flight. Ever.

Seriously? I hate flying. Really hate it. I’m pretty sure I’d feel that way just on the basis of how often I do it, but it doesn’t help that in a past walk of life, I was spoiled with First Class tickets and lear jets. Once you’ve seen what’s on the other side of the curtain, it’s kind of hard to go back. Especially when going back means being wedged between a screaming baby and an Arm Rest Hog.

When I fly coach, I’m usually just looking for a safe flight. As a control freak, I spend a fair amount of time concerned that the pilot is either tired or drunk, and that the mechanic was either rushed or frustrated with his employer when he gave our ride the once-over. Every bump of turbulence sends me speculating about how we’ll meet our fiery death. (Will I pass out from a lack of oxygen, or still be conscious when each organ bursts?)

Yesterday morning, I headed into the flight expecting it to be worse than average. For starters, I had accidentally left my iPad at home. The same iPad I updated the night before specifically so it would have the latest issue of Vanity Fair and my book club’s October pick on it. I won’t lie – there was more than a moment of panic when I realized I was facing a five hour flight without entertainment.

Of course, the entertainment was a back-up plan. Whenever I travel for work, I try to work on the plane. But if it’s a horrible flight that has me convinced we won’t actually arrive at our destination with a pulse, I need some kind of major distraction to prevent me from getting all the passengers worked up about the safety of our flight. So I boarded Alaska Air in DCA with a sense of dread, thinking about my iPad, still snuggled in my sheets where I left it.

It was a full flight, but I was fortunate to share my row with a gay couple from Portland who had just been in DC for a friend’s wedding. At least, I assume they were a couple because they had matching his-and-his travel coffee mugs. I was impressed when they fished them out of their bags, shortly before the beverage service commenced.

I pointed at them. “Do you do that for environmental reasons?” They nodded. Right on! Sharing my row with thin, polite, eco-friendly gay men? It’s kind of like a Friday night dinner party at my house! I remember checking the “aisle” preference for my seat assignment, but it’s like Alaska Air actually did a personality profile to make sure I was flying with friends.

Unfortunately, the flight attendant didn’t understand why they had brought their own mugs. She thought they were trying to cheat the system and get more than their fair share of coffee. “Sorry, but I can’t fill those up,” she told them.

“That’s fine,” the guy next to me said. “I’ll take whatever you can give me, but I’d like it if you could pour it in here.” He held out his mug.

“Sorry. I can put it in this cup? Then you can pour it from the cup into your mug?” She offered.

“But that defeats the point. We don’t want to use as plastic cup.”

She wasn’t getting it, but the exchange was still pleasant, unlike what I’ve witnessed on other airlines. “But I can’t let the coffee pot touch something that isn’t clean…”

“Fine, I’ll skip the coffee then,” the guy said. But he said it in a simple, accepting way, not the bitchy way someone else might deliver that line.

“So you don’t want coffee?” she asked, now truly confused.

“I do want coffee. I just don’t want to waste a plastic cup,” he explained.

A lightbulb went off and she managed to pour the coffee into his travel mug without the pot touching it. Bravo! Meanwhile, I continued sipping my Diet Coke, feeling very guilty as I eyed the plastic cup and the aluminum can on my tray table. Sigh. Definitely going to eco-hell for this. As if the carbon emissions trailing the plane weren’t enough to feel guilty about.

I fired up my laptop and decided to work. You know what else makes Alaska Air rock? In-flight WIFI for $4.95. That’s a dollar an hour. And it allowed me to plow through a pile of work. I was happily clicking away, chatting people back on the ground, when the woman across the aisle from me began to take an interest in what I was doing.

She leaned over and started to grill me with questions. What do you do? How long have you done that? Where do you live? Do you travel a lot? Do you like your Apple laptop? Is the wifi free on this flight? How long are you in LA? Is this plane cold?

Her nails did NOT look like this. But these are definitely disturbing. Especially to a candy lover.

I tried my best to answer succinctly and get back to work, but she clearly wanted a conversation. I studied her, looking for something that could engender a larger exchange. All I could come up with were her nails, which were absurdly long and looked like Jackson Pollack had painted them.

I decided to forget the conversation and continue working.

Apparently the pilot had other plans, because he came over the intercom and announced, “Folks. Great news! Our flight path takes us right over the Grand Canyon today and it’s pretty clear so you’ll get a nice view out the right side of the plane in about 15 minutes. I’m going to check with ground control to if we can change our course a little bit so that both sides of the plane will get a view.”

I continued worked until – fifteen minutes later – the pilot came back on the PA system and said, “OK. So I’m going to tilt us to a bit so everyone can get a good view out the right side of the plane. And we tilted and the windows were suddenly full with nothing but the expanse of the Grand Canyon.

After flying that way for about five minutes, the pilot said, “And now I’ll give the left side their view.” And he did.

After a total of about ten minutes, he popped back on. “I hope everyone was able to see something. The Grand Canyon is something special!” And the passengers started clapping in response. I was somewhat dumbfounded, since the only other applause I’ve heard on planes is after a particularly dicey landing.

As a trainer who is in Los Angeles specifically to talk with new hires about the role they have been charged with in our organization, that’s what I want to convey: that passion for your job can have a ripple effect. We don’t always get applause, but we have it in our power to make the world a wee bit better than we found it.

When I got off the plane, I thanked the pilot and the flight attendants for a great flight and was ready to start singing the praises of anything from Alaska. But then I remembered Sarah Palin.

I think I’ll limit my enthusiasm to the airline, thanks.

Tags: airplane, Alaska Air, customer service, flying, humor, jobs