
Where was this photo taken?
The American Embassy in Saigon, April 1975? No.
The Department of Motor Vehicles? No.
A Greyhound Bus Station? No.
This is one of the United "Express" gates at O'Hare. It's the one from which the flights that don't even rate a jetbridge, the lowest of the low, depart. Shortly after I took this picture, the Customer "Service" Agent (United Express employees are the elite graduates of the Academy of How To Do Your Job Really Poorly With An Attitude) began shrieking into the PA system that three flights, including mine to Fargo, were boarding at the same time. She commanded us to keep our boarding passes in hand. I had to walk a gauntlet of four surly United Express employees about 10 feet apart, each of whom mumbled something while glancing at my boarding pass. I assume they were checking to see if I was getting on the correct plane, but I can't be sure.
The tall, somewhat bewildered-looking African man in the photo was on my flight. (He was not African-American, he was African.) He had to move out of the exit row across from me when he couldn't understand what the flight attendant was saying when she was asking if we'd be willing and able to assist (aka opening the door and yelling "follow me") in the event of an emergency. He ended up in the row behind me, across from two Real Americans from Indiana who were on their way to work in North Dakota. I'm not talking Accenture consultants here--they must do the work that Real American Men of the Sacred Heartland do--construction of some sort, or maybe they're welders. I couldn't understand why the one kept saying things in Spanish; it clearly wasn't his native language. As we were waiting to get off the plane I realized he was trying to communicate with the African guy (from Nigeria? Ghana?) The woman who ended up across from me finally explained "I don't think he speaks Spanish." Cooter Brown was trying to speak Spanish to the fur'ner! Who says 'murcans are dumb??




















