Exit Row Hero

Headed to SLC, then to Phoenix, and it looked like Katie and I would not be sitting together on either flight.  I figured, "That's cool, fire up the Pod, and we'll be there in no time".

The man called for loading zone 4, so there would likely be no room for my carry-on bag in the overhead bin.  I figured, "That's cool, stuff my shit under the seat, and we'll be there in no time."

As the woman scanning tickets ran my folding up boarding pass across the machine it beeped, and she uttered the only words better than "We have upgraded you to First Class", she said I would be sitting in the Exit Row.

I figured, "That's cool, I have sufficient strength, mobility, and dexterity, and we'll be there in no time." 

I sat down in my exit row seat, stuffed my lapper under the seat, and began to soak in that extra leg room.  The airlines give you that extra leg room in the Exit Row to keep your leg muscles stretched out and limber; ready to spring in to action.

My mind wondered as I looked around at all of the people that I was responsible for.  The Make-out couple sitting behind me and to my left...rubbing each others faces together completely oblivious to the fact that in minutes we would be taking to the air in this death machine.  Way too serious business man, still rocking his Blue Tooth and crushing keys on his laptop as he no doubt approved something super important.

I was interrupted by my seatmate for the next 45-50 minutes asking me what time it was, because he didn't have a watch.  "Not time to die...not on my watch", is what I wanted to say, but I toned it down to "Ten til".  He confirmed that I was wearing a Boise State hat and that I was, in fact, on my way to the 2010 Fiesta Bowl.  We discussed terrible past flights, and how he missed the last Fiesta Bowl, because he was in an airport.  That was a nice three minute convo, ending with the typical awkward silence.  Outstanding.

What many casual airline fliers don't realize is that at 37,000 feet, there are guardian angels watching over them.  Guardian angels that are required to audibly accept the responsibility, much like the swearing in of a new Private to the United States Army.  Those angels are the Exit Row Heroes.  Sure, they look ordinary, but their sense of duty and guard dog mentality is like a volcano, ready to erupt.  Their sense of personal and societal responsibility is molded by the passenger safety card located in the pocket of the seat in front of them.  As the seat of 12B surrounds me, I wonder if I have what it takes...

The man across the aisle has what it takes.  No question.  His shirt says "Champion".  A champion of safety and leadership, no doubt.  He jokes about the need to audibly accept the responsibility, but quickly points out that, "Mutes can't direct and save."  A valid point.  The way he manhandles and manipulates his Wall Street Journal ensures me that during crunch time, the 42lb. exit door won't stand a chance.

I'm not going to lie, I was inspired by this man.  I acted disinterested as I studied the passenger safety card (which I stole), but I am very attentive.  Emergency landing on water, emergency landing on land; to say my senses were heightened would have been an understatement.  I was a beacon of situational awareness.  I scanned again.  The woman in 13C with a small child, completely overwhelmed.  The man in 9C that has already gone to the bathroom and clearly has no control over his bodily functions.  The large group of candy cane striped button wearing unaccompanied minors.

Awkward silence guy drifted to sleep after take-off, and I scanned the cabin, again taking in the people that I would potentially be saving.  "Maybe I am an Exit Row hero", I thought as I watched MMA Affliction Tee guy order a $10 Red Bull and Vodka.  An 11:35 am flight and he is firing up Red Bull and Vodkas?  Then I noticed he had an inhaler on his tray table.

Really??

Can he still be a bad ass with an inhaler?  I wondered...(more on this in another post)

These people are completely helpless...lost without me and The Champion of Safety (who is now flirting with the flight attendant).  I think of lecturing him on the dangers of complacency, but realize that would only weaken our bond.  I resist because these people need us.  And when the panicking masses follow the illuminated strips on either side of the aisle to exit, we will stand there in our herioc glory to guide them to safety.

Yeah, I have what it takes.  Tom out.