It’s a classic.

So the gate agent was checking the cabin and whatnot, “pull on the yellow strap,” all that jazz, and a lady had her backpack on, and the gate agent was like “ma’am, your bag has to go under your seat.”

And the woman looked confused and horrified, and said “baby go under seat?”

And lo and behold, she take the backpack off and turns it around…

AND THERE IS A BABY.

Baby did not go under seat. Baby and mother were hastily escorted out for a rider swap.

But now it is a custom amongst us spaceport agents to yell “baby under seat?” at each other. It’s like our traditional greeting. To which the proper reply is “Ehhh, together, family!”

A party of six stopped me from loading because they had to examine every pair of flight glasses, and when they finally made their choices THEY PULLED OUT HAND SANITIZER AND CLEANED THE LENSES.

I was like “we do clean those, you know; they’re used once and then we run them through a giant dishwasher.”

They were like “oh…we didn’t think you cleaned them.”

I CANNOT ROLL MY EYES HARD ENOUGH.