The Squeaky Wheel Gets the Grease


Flight Essentials: Pedigreed Peaches

I’ve been meaning to recount this story for a few weeks now, ever since I returned from Alaska. You know how flying can be the most terrible, soul-sucking, depressing experiences ever? And you know how terrible it is to watch poor souls jockeying for the precious few amenities offered by the bankrupt airlines?

Well, on my recent flight from SFO I experienced the following: First, a woman and her daughter were making a enormous stink at check-in. Somehow wronged by a faulty computer, she wanted to let everyone know. They had too much luggage, the bag checking dudes weren’t taking it quickly enough…you know the drill. I noticed at the time the mother was carrying a paper bag that was leaking—the whole bottom of the bag was soggy.

I left them in the dust, proceeded to buy my bad plane magazines, and was calmly waiting to board when out of the corner of my eye I caught the duo again, this time at the ticket counter at the gate—my gate. (Of course, right? Karma-gods, what did I do wrong?) The woman was wheeling and dealing for some type of freebie and when it didn’t seem to be going well, she reached into her sodden sack and produced two or three perfectly ripe peaches. “Oh, you should try these peaches,” she crowed at the woman behind the counter. When the woman responded that she had recently bought some good peaches at Safeway, the squeaky wheel replied, “NO, no! These peaches are from Frog Hollow Farm, and they are the best in the country. I got them at the Berkeley Farmers’ Market!”

Peaches with pedigree help annoying Berkeley mother bribe her way into an economy-plus seat on a nearly sold out flight. Go figure. Only in San Francisco.
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