Can I Never Fly USAir Again, Please?

Standing in line at Boston Logan Airport, awaiting the privilege of being frisked in the name of national security, I was privy to the utterances of a well-dressed gent in the first class line who breezed by with the comment, "USAir is the worst airline in the world." Sitting here tonight, some 24 hours after landing and still with a kink in my right lat, I can't muster a counter-argument. USAir is gawdawful.

It boggles the mind that the same industry can produce the extremes of USAir and Southwest. Southwest flights are affordable, the planes full and comfortable, the result profitable even though bags fly free. USAir flights are expensive, the planes full and just barely beneath the Geneva Convention definition of torture, the result consistently on the brink of bankruptcy even though bags fly at $25 a pop.

There's only one possible explanation:

USAir is run by people who have no association with flight whatsoever.

To be honest, I have no idea who runs USAir. They might be nice people. But it's pretty obvious that they've never flown in their lives. Ever. They may not even know what an airplane looks like. If you showed them a picture of one of their planes and asked them what it was, they'd probably tell you it's some kind of fancy turtle.

The concept of why people fly is foreign to them. It seems ridiculous to them that their customers — people who have to travel so far that the only way to make the journey in less than a month is to do so in the sky at nearly the speed of sound — would have any need to bring stuff with them. Hence they punish their customers $25 per-bag and provide overhead storage that can hold approximately 20 carry-ons, even though the plane holds 50 people, each of whom is invited to bring on two items.

I'm also not sure who the person is in charge of configuring the interiors of USAir planes, but I'm pretty sure he came from the Campbell's Soup Company, where his job was to design boxes that reduced product loss due to shipping damage. Clearly, he believes that the key to moving people safely around the country is to pack them in so tightly together that they don't shift during transit. On yesterday's flight from Boston to Pittsburgh, fifty people were stuffed in a plane that any rational individual would estimate to comfortably hold fewer than twelve. But in fairness, none were dented on the journey.

My flying partner yesterday, Dave Popelka, (davepopelka.blogspot.com) said that the plane was, "designed around the premise that the only people who fly USAir are jockeys." I'm six-feet tall, which isn't terribly unusual for people raised on cow-based food that was laced with bovine growth hormones. I had to crouch the length of the plane to avoid shaving my head on the ceiling. This cumbersome waddle ended at America's least comfortable seat. The headrest was situated roughly one foot lower than the sitting height of the average human head. The seat cushion was as hard as marble. The flight attendant (there was only one) told us that it could be used as a flotation device, but that's only because it appeared to have been made out of titanium and shaped like a ship's hull. Around the seat, the window was perfectly positioned for optimum viewing, provided your eyes are in your elbow, and the armrests were barely wide enough to accommodate the limbs of a starving mantis.

Oh, and the cabin was roughly 116 degrees Fahrenheit. Luckily, being winter, we were all wearing heavy clothing.

The world's most accomplished sadist couldn't create a less comfortable flying experience on a dare.

Oddly enough, the flight was overbooked. I'm assuming that's only because Al Qaeda Airlines was full. As an incentive, USAir was generously offering a $200 voucher for anyone willing to give up their seat. The catch was that it was only good for a future USAir flight. For 25 cents and a seat on Southwest, I'd have volunteered in a heartbeat.