A while ago I left off steam about the new cattle runs being installed in the likes of Kmart and most major supermarkets. I thought at first this may be a passing anomaly (ohhh my, was I being naive!) but nooo. There is a definite quirk in human nature that dictates that where one chief lemming lurches, everyone else must jump as well. Many of you may be of an age to remember the hit Monty Python film “Life of Brian” where quasi messiah Brian is pursued relentlessly by a host of mindless worshipping morons (a classic quote is “Yup he’s the Messiah! I should know, I’ve followed a few!”) This translates into modern life where it seems the nuttier the idea the more likely it is to be adapted by the powers that be, especially if they think a few cents can be scrimped from it.
Last week I was in Melbourne for a few days. Ahhh, that lovely cultured, shopaholic paradise. Once upon a time travelling by plane was an experience to be savoured, enjoyed, recalled with nostalgia over cuppas with friends and family. One now gets to the airport, to be greeted by a mooing, crushing herd of confused two footed cattle tripping over luggage trolleys and bawling calves (er, children). We are now shoved into mindless queues by mindless computerised stations where, under the guise of so called ‘smart passports” we do all our own sign in and baggage check in (do YOU get paid for doing all this extra work for the flight company? And how many jobs has all this done away with????) While fumbling over passports, departure cards, boarding passes and duty free dockets, the instruction over the loudspeakers never stops (“Proceed to departure lounge! Make sure your documents are with you! Hahhh hahhhh!”) You stand in a security doorway staring dead ahead while the camera goes FLASH and you stumble forth in a state of bewilderment while your boarding pass turns to mush in your little hot hand. And before you know it it is checked, clicked and you are urged down a human gangplank and onto the waiting cargo vessel in the guise of a passenger plane. When you finally come across your seat you will know how a penned pig or a battery hen must feel as you wish you had a shoehorn to ease yourself in – only to discover you’re sitting on your neighbour’s seatbelt. And what’s more, these days one usually has to buy any snacks en flight for an exorbitant price, and then you raffle through the packets wondering just how much of this stuff has any real food content.
All this, and hardly a direct human word or even a glancing smile.
I for one have had enough of cattle class. While such economies may be necessary for jaded frequent flyers etc, for those of us like me who make air travel an annual event or less often, WE WANT SERVICE. We want to see that our spent money is going towards decent, reliable jobs and an airline we can take pride in. We want to smell that freshly brewed coffee as it is poured with care into china cups and hear those little words “Is there something else we can help you with?” and not refer to some heartless database on a terminal screen that hiccups every few seconds and makes you resume your data entry from scratch.
Ummm. Personal service. You never know, it is now such a nutty idea it might just take off one day…
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