Tale of the Bitter, Old Gate Agent
Today, I am musing about people who are convinced their lives are terrible, so they make them that way. As I was flying home from Utah (I'm back in New York), I flew through Chicago. I'm not a big fan of O'Hare Airport, but that's the way that it happened this time, so that's life. Anyways, there was this super bitter gate agent. She hated her job and mostly her life, I think. She was so miserable, that she was making everybody else miserable. I tried to make her day easier and lighten the area around her, but she would have nothing of it. For example, there was a lady who came to check in for the flight. She was seventy-five years old, and was going through chemotherapy and so she was very weak and feeble. When the gate agent found out that she was booked for a seat in the emergency exit row, the bitter gate agent informed the woman that this was not going to be possible. The emergency exit door was much too big for her and she was not legally able to serve...