The fleet, at rest
The miracle continues. An entire fleet, parked. Demand from passengers who only needed to board first has dropped to zero.
Fresh sightings from the wild
Real passengers, real posts, filed under the species responsible.
Open seating, 1971 to 2026
Laid to rest January 27, 2026. Survived by eight boarding groups and everyone who ever set an alarm for exactly 24 hours before departure. In lieu of flowers, stop standing at the gate.
62,000 points to Columbus
One way. To Columbus. The budget airline would like 62,000 points and, presumably, your firstborn.
Shoes on. On the tray table.
Credit where due: the shoes are on. They are on the tray table. The Bandit heard your complaints about bare feet and found a loophole.
Boarding group C. Mood: A1.
Group C, holding a trading card of the airplane, happier than anyone in group A. We log the happy ones too. There are not many.
Your boarding pass is now a resume
A-List. Cardmember. One drink coupon. The airline now prints your credentials on the pass in little badges. The Peacock has requested a larger font and a lanyard.
Trendiest. Sale. Ever.
One-way as low as $67, with an asterisk. The asterisk is the hardest-working employee at the company.
Prefer to pay?
WiFi is free if you join the loyalty program. Otherwise the portal asks, politely, whether you would prefer to pay eight dollars. Nobody has ever preferred anything less.
Hat on. Shoes off.
Bare feet on the middle seat. No eye contact. Dares you to ask. The hat stays on. The shoes do not.
New species: the Rapunzel
A full head of hair, draped over the seat back and across your tray table. The subject does not turn around. The subject never turns around.