Thanks again to everyone for the kind words on my Dad's passing. We were just coming home from the funeral yesterday when Frontier flight 663 from Denver to SFO EXPLODED WITH DRAMA which in turn cheered me up a lot.
We were in row 2 so a lot of this happened behind us. We first became aware that there was a Situation when a middle-aged white lady and a tween Middle Eastern-appearing boy with a wispy mustache and socks with sandals approached the two flight attendants standing in the galley at the front and started talking excitedly. Naturally I RIPPED my earbuds out and tried to hear what was going on but couldn't really make it out except for the FAs telling them they'd take care of it. They left and went somewhere, back to their seats I guess.
Then he was up front. The Troublemaker, who I'll call "Brad" because he looked like a Brad, was maybe late 30's, wearing flip flops and a bead bracelet and about three days of stubble. He didn't look very good. He stood motionless facing the galley until one of the FAs asked what he wanted and I guess he said the bathroom because she pointed out the door, DIRECTLY IN FRONT OF HIS FACE. He went in and didn't lock it, natch, so then the FA had to tell the HUGE guy who came up next not to go in.
OK. HERE WE GO WITH THE EXCITING PART. Brad comes out of the lavatory and starts talking to the FA. He has sort of a vacant look and I know RIGHT AWAY he's asking for another drink. I can't hear what FA is saying but I can tell she's saying no. It goes back and forth for a while. Then he starts talking about how he doesn't like people stealing from him! I guess he thinks he already paid for drinks and didn't get them? She tells him over and over to go back to his seat. At this point I'm looking around to see who else is nearby in case there's a rumble.
OK. Huge Dude comes out and is behind him. Argument is escalating. BOOM, now the guy in 1D is up. He looks like a cross between Sam Elliott and Nick Cave and appears to be about 60 but has full sleeve tattoos that he either got in a biker gang or in prison. I noticed him quietly radiating menace earlier. I am pretty sure Brad is about to die. But wait! Sam Elliott has a solution. His female companion has pulled $10 from her purse and Sam Elliott gives it to Brad. "You want money? Here's your money. Now go back to your seat." You have to imagine this in the Sam Elliott voice.
At this point, Brad is standing between a Human Retaining Wall and probably the former president of the Hells Angels. He squeaks out some more protests but you can tell he knows he's beat.
"Go back. To your seat," Sam Elliott says. I'm scared of him and I'm in my seat and haven't done anything wrong. Brad slowly walks away in that shitfaced look-at-me-balancing-aren't-I-doing-great way.
Everybody sits down. Sam Elliott is talking to the guy in 1C, across the aisle. "It's no big deal. He just drank too much," Sam Elliott says.
Not everyone agreed with Sam Elliott's take. The FA told us all not to get up when we land. For most airline passengers, this is akin to asking them not to breathe. There is NOTHING airline passengers like more than LEAPING into the aisle the nanosecond the plane's discernible movement stops. But they do it! On come about 5 SFPD officers. Brad leaves with them sans protest. Wife and Beyonce and I all get off the plane. Sam Elliott goes off to drink an entire bottle of tequila in one gulp and intimidate some rattlesnakes. Human Retaining Wall eats a KFC franchise. Brad spends the night in jail. Life goes on.