'Plane' Sailing

Did anyone else catch the story of the complaint made via Twitter by some young adult about her US Airlines flight being delayed, but more the point, the response by a representative of the airline?  Recap: the original Tweeter posted about their delayed flight words to the effect, 'I want free stuff.  I h8 you'.  I read this and thought, 'What are you, four?'  Besides, what's wrong with actually writing to the complaints department and airing your grievance with maturity?  But the total response-to-end-all-responses was the response of a representative of the airline, and I will hazard a guess that this representative is no longer on the company payroll.  This person tweeted a picture for a response.  The picture is of a woman spread-eagled with a model plane flying into her vagina.  No, I didn't actually type that wrong.  I have read remarks on social media about where on earth would the airline employee source such a picture, and why on earth would somebody pose for such a picture, and why on earth would anybody find such a picture even remotely sexually stimulating.  Now, I have a theory.  And I think my theory holds water.  Maybe it was the actual person who had to deal with the childishly worded complaint.  Maybe this person had to deal with a whole truckload of fatuous and meaningless gripes, and bitches, and moans, and beefs, and bleatings, and whines and when this one reached her in-tray she finally blew her inner cogs and wheels, screamed, 'FUCK THIS SHIT!' and did, um, that thing with the model aeroplane. 


I know what it's like to be driven mad in the work environment.  Although not in customer service per se, I have had the girlfriend of a client ring me, the friend of this client ring me, the bloke who cuts the hair and trims the sideburns of this client ring, well, you get the drift.  The phone rang constantly and it was always something not at all urgent, it was always something that stopped me getting on with other work, it was always some new about the guy's upcoming day in court, it was always something else they wanted done, it was always something that was near-impossible to facilitate because the only day he could be psychiatrically assessed was the weekend because the shrink wasn't available during the week, and you try and get a psych's appointment in a government department on a weekend.  It ain't easy.  As you can see, with all these calls, the client himself couldn't ring me because he was in gaol.  And although he was someone euphemistically referred to in the press as 'colourful Kings Cross identity', I did not get swept up in the 'Underbelly' dark glamour of it all.  I couldn't.  I was driven too mad.  Finally, one day I slammed down the receiver after what was probably the fourth call for the day (and it was not yet 10.00am), and shouted, 'I AM SO FUCKING SICK OF [COLOURFUL KINGS CROSS IDENTITY]!!!'  A newly minted solicitor who had just joined our firm walked in, the poor lass had not even been sworn in at the Supreme Court yet, and I do believe the force of the blast from my yelling flattened her against the wall.


So yeah, if the person in the tweeted pic was a disgruntled (never mind disgruntled, completely driving psycho employee), I can almost understand where she's coming from.