Recently, I wrote about the appalling Detroit-area doctor who has been mutilating little girls for her twisted cult. Both this perverse excuse for a human being and her accomplices – Fakhruddin Attar and his demented wife Farida – were indicted yesterday for scheming to disfigure little girls. When I wrote about this, I noted that Jumana Nagarwala’s claim that she was merely removing the children’s “genital membrane and giving it to relatives for burial” held about as much water as an ISIS member claiming to respect women (or Antifa claiming to respect free speech), and medical examinations proved otherwise.
But according to a juvenile protection petition filed in Minnesota, along with federal court documents, the injuries sustained by the Minnesota girls are far more severe than Nagarwala described. A doctor’s findings cited scarring, a small tear, healing lacerations and what appears to be surgical removal of a portion of her genitalia, the Detroit Free Press reported.
Seriously? What civilized human being with any shred of morality who was educated in one of the best medical schools in a developed country would harm little children in such a manner?
What galls me even more is that according to the report, at least one of the children was returned to her parents.
doctor pernicious cunt wad apparently exchanged texts with one of the mothers, confirming the time they were to meet so she could disfigure her little daughter.
The father allegedly knew about the trip through texts with his wife while she was in Detroit.
The little girl told a child protective services investigator that the doctor had “made her cry,” and the victims said they were instructed to keep what happened to them a secret.
It’s quite obvious there was conspiracy between the parents and the doctors.
And yet, at least one of the little girls was returned to her parents!
Why are these people not held liable for conspiring to mutilate their children? Why have they not been charged?
Why have the children been returned to them?
Why haven’t they been sterilized with some rusty implements, so they’re never again able to create innocent life and then harm it? (I may or may not be joking about this last part. You decide.)
We already know that Nagarwala is a sadistic, sub-human savage, who apparently lied to investigators about even being present for the procedures!
But why are the parents not being held criminally liable, and WHY for the sake of everything that’s not fucked up in this world would you return a child to savages who conspired to mutilate her in a sick effort to assume control over her sexuality?
I hurt for these little girls so much! They were awake for the whole thing, and I can’t imagine the pain and humiliation. What kind of “compassionate” agency that’s supposed to look out for the welfare of the most vulnerable among us, would return a child to these monsters?
Someone explain this to me, because I just don’t get it.
Dear Media –
You’ve seen me bitch directly about your lack of objectivity. You’ve seen me take on fake news that was so ridiculous, that anyone who is not a halfwit should have laughed the story off the Internet. I’ve condemned your inability and unwillingness to actually report the news, vice insert yourselves into it. I’ve condemned you for shoving your political agenda into nearly every “news” story. I’ve kicked you for publishing intentionally misleading garbage under the protection of the First Amendment, as if it’s some kind of shield to protect your bullshit from being identified as… well… bullshit. Needless to say, I am not a fan.
Recently I polled several hundred readers on my public Facebook page about what news sources they use and why. These are folks who come from all sides of the political spectrum – from extreme left progressives, to moderates, to ultra-conservative, to frothing Kool-Aid drinkers on all sides.
I asked them about their news sources. What actual news sources do you use to be informed about the world? I specified that I wasn’t talking about opinion journals or blogs, but actual news sources, such as the Wall Street Journal or the Economist, which have opinion sections, but generally provide insightful reporting on world events. My own list of daily go-to sources is a combination of the Wall Street Journal, CNN, BBC, the Financial Times, and the Washington Post. I also use news aggregators for a combination of sources and news reporting.
The responses I got were interesting. Here’s what I found, in addition to the usual conservatives/Fox News and liberals/NYT.
The Wall Street Journal, CNN, Reuters, AP, BBC, and the Washington Post seem to be the most popular news sources among all political affiliations.
Many can’t tell the difference between a blog, an opinion journal, and a news source. I suspect it’s because you have blurred the line between op-eds, features, and news, and twisted the definition of news to such an extent, that the audience can no longer distinguish between these media, and worse yet, has stopped caring about the difference.
Many have given up on trying to get information from media sources at all. They’d “rather be uninformed than misinformed.”
And those who do use mainstream reporting sources to get information, still look for corroborative reporting. They read the news story – even in a source as commonly trusted as the Wall Street Journal or the AP, and then they check primary sources and what other media outlets reported on the issue.
You know what this boils down to?
They don’t trust you.
They don’t trust you to report accurately.
They don’t trust you to report objectively.
They don’t trust you not to twist your reporting to suit your agendas.
They don’t trust you to have the honor and integrity to admit your mistakes.
What does it tell you when instead of just reading a news story, most people have to scrape for corroborative reporting before they believe a word you write?
What does it tell you when people trust blogs more than they trust journalists, who ostensibly have more access to information?
What does it tell you when readers trust others’ opinions more than they trust your reporting?
Is it on them? Almost certainly. Many are too lazy or too committed to their own ideologies to even consider anything that challenges their worldview. This creates a certain market for bullshit – a demand for reports that stroke people’s confirmation biases. But is it all on them? Not even close.
You complain about “fake news,” but you, more than anyone and anything, have contributed to that phenomenon with your constant failure to report objectively, your inability to report on the story without sticking your political dick into it, your outright contempt for your audiences, and your intentional and sometimes malicious obfuscation. These egregious misdeeds are well-documented. Your inability to accurately report the story without snark or subjective garbage has made you something to be derided. The public trust in what you dish out is at an all time low.
Are you really surprised that people seek out other sources of information? And are you really shocked when they begin to believe whatever they’re fed – even by ignorant, uninformed bloggers with their own agendas – as long as it’s not through you? Is it any wonder that any number of fake, misleading, biased sites have popped up to fill the void? You suck at your job, so someone else has to do it – no matter how poorly!
You twist words. You omit critical information. You conceal your own opinions in a torrent of word salad, and try and mask it as factual reporting. You obfuscate. You insert inflammatory language into a straight news report to elicit a certain reaction.
Take this current example from NPR. From the very title and first paragraph, not only do we know what the writer feels on the topic of Trump extending a program to afford veterans an opportunity to seek health care from private doctors, but we can also see how said writer tries to shape the reader’s opinion on the topic!
Trump Extends Troubled VA Program That Pays Private Doctors
Yeah, let’s make private doctors seem like a negative, dirty phrase, instead of an opportunity to choose for those who have made significant sacrifices for our country, and are now stuck in a broken, corrupt VA system.
It’s a fix that hasn’t fixed much, but the troubled Veterans Choice program has been extended anyway.
Hasn’t fixed much, according to whom? The author, who quite obviously hates it that veterans have a choice, and is taking the opportunity to slam the administration?
Veterans Choice is designed to allow veterans who have waited more than 30 days for an appointment at a VA facility, or who live more than 40 miles from one, instead to get care from private providers who then bill the VA. But it has been plagued with problems. Many vets complain that Choice actually makes getting care more difficult and time-consuming, and some health care providers have dropped out due to slow payments or administrative hassles.
“Plagued with problems.” Because that’s not inflammatory language or anything!
“Many vets complain.” How many? I checked a Facebook page for Veterans’ complaints about the program itself. There were fewer than 20 since March, 2016. A January 2017 IG report detailed some of the problems investigators found with the program, including VC’s inadequate network of providers (I’m guessing due to the VA having 90 days to implement choice, which for a government bureaucracy is daunting, to say the least), and lack of strong oversight into payments for participating providers.
While, NPR derps about “many vets complaining,” it doesn’t provide actual numbers, nor does it note that only 13 percent of eligible veterans actually took advantage of the program, according to the IG report!
By omitting contextual information and using obviously inflammatory language to obliquely condemn the Trump Administration for having extended the program, the NPR undermined its own credibility in a transparent attempt to influence reader opinion on the issue.
And if you think NPR is a rare culprit, bitch, please! In a quest for audiences and clicks in a market that has become saturated with information, attention-grabbing headlines, no matter how misleading or outright false are gold!
And then you wonder why no one trusts you anymore? Come on! You can’t possibly be this lacking in self awareness!
But then again, maybe you are.
Clueless, arrogant, conceited, and completely lacking in storytelling ability.
Is it no wonder so few people trust you?
Someone who is sick of your shit
The Wall Street Journal has an interesting and short article about today’s college seniors, the job market, and their prospects in it. It’s a brief piece that details the results of a survey of employers and college seniors applying for jobs after graduation that highlights just how disparate their views of the applicants are.
More than 60% of employers in the survey said applicants ought to be more familiar with the company and industry, and must ask better questions in interviews. Plus, those employers say, three out of four applicants fail to send thank-you notes after interviews.
The mismatch extends to hard skills, too. Engineering, business and computer science majors are in highest demand, with at least two-thirds of employers seeking graduates in those fields, according to NACE. But fewer than half of the students surveyed by iCIMS majored in those subjects.
College seniors feel good about their prospects: more than 90% of the students surveyed by iCIMS reported feeling confident about their interview skills. They also expect to earn over $53,000 in their first job, compared with average salary of $45,000 that recruiters expect to pay for those positions.
You have to wonder why students seem to be doing little to no market research. As I mentioned in a previous post, we have snowflakes who are incapable of functioning in the real world, because to their utter shock, that degree in feminist puppetry with a minor in tribal interpretive dance didn’t translate into a six-figure income job!
You know what employers want?
They want skills that will help the company produce and make profit.
They want skills that will allow the workplace to function and the business to create value.
They want someone with an understanding of how business and finance work.
They want someone with communications and people skills. That means someone who will respect the right of others to have dissenting views to their own, and who won’t be a chronic complainer about perceived slights and offenses at the office. Those things tend to impact morale.
They want someone who brings value to the table, but also realizes they have a lot to learn and is willing to learn it.
They want someone who understands that having graduated college doesn’t make them experts on anything – it mostly makes them newbs with some book smarts.
Look, I may come across as an uber bitch online, but I also understand this type of attitude won’t fly in all situations. No, I don’t curse up a storm at work, although depending on the frustrations of the day, some sort of F-bomb will fly out of my mouth on occasion. I know what I don’t know, even though I have a Master’s Degree and *mumblegrumble* years of experience, and I listen intently and take notes in meetings and briefings. I am certainly NOT entitled to a raise or a promotion, unless and until I prove myself worthy.
The snowflakes of today seem to be convinced that not only should they do what they love (I would never discourage that), but that they should get paid for it regardless of whether or not an employer needs skills in pussy hat knitting.
Today’s parents and high schools are doing young people a disservice by encouraging them to consider themselves and their needs superior to the employers’.
We hear the “do what you love” mantra coming from parents and educators on a regular basis, without any regard for the market and its demands. And because of this we have a bunch of kids who are graduating college with skills employers generally don’t value or want, but we found the curriculum exciting and fascinating. Exciting and fascinating is great, but it’s not going to pay the bills if there’s no demand.
Additionally, kids are being released into the world with an bloated sense of self-importance. What they want matters. Their opinion counts more than anyone’s. They’re important. They’re special. They’re entitled to the best. That kind of attitude translates to an unwillingness to consider what it is that actual employers seek, and what the market for their skills looks like. When you’ve been told your entire life that the only thing that matters is what you desire, you lack the ability to comprehend that there’s a whole world out there that may or may not match your needs and desires, and you can’t imagine why in the world what you love won’t pay the bills.
You want to be an artist? Great, be an artist. The world needs talented and creative people. But if you’re assuming that employers need your “Booger in Snowfall” wall art, and you are amazed why the green snot you placed on a white canvass won’t get you into an engineering or accounting job, you have no further to look than the nearest mirror. Study what you love, but be realistic about the job market, do your research, and have a fallback skill you can use while you’re creating that “Booger in Snowfall” masterpiece!
And then there’s the interview… Oh man!
In the survey two-thirds of employers noted that the applicant didn’t even bother sending a note thanking them for their time. Hate to tell you this, folks, but these are managers. They’re busy people, who have money to offer you for your skills, and who have taken the time out of their busy day to talk to you and perhaps offer you an opportunity. They’re not there to sell themselves to you, but quite the opposite. They are there to see if you – out of the hundreds of applicants for what may be a decent-paying, fascinating step in the door to an exciting career – might be a good fit. And yes, they offer money, benefits, and sometimes even catering, personal training, and beanbag chairs in exchange for the skills you bring to the table. They’ve got a ton of applicants who are competing for that position, so it would behoove you to 1) put your best foot forward, and 2) thank them for their time.
Research the job and about the company. Asking informed questions about the work, and not just about how much vacation time you’ll get and what your holiday bonus will look like, tells the employer that you’re interested in the actual… you know… work! It tells them you cared enough to do your homework, that you understand their mission, and that you are willing to learn to do the job right.
And ferpetessake, wear a damn suit!
I once interviewed a guy who came in wearing khaki slacks that looked like he had just dragged them out of the laundry basket, a pink polo, and a wrinkled grey jacket. No tie. No energy. He mumbled his words, had no idea what our agency did, and didn’t even bother updating his resume with his most current job, even though we found out he had been working in a “new” position for a year and never bothered updating his CV with his current experience.
He also didn’t bother tailoring his experience to the kind of work we did, so we would know he had something to offer despite the fact that his actual work wasn’t a match.
“I noted that your office works on *insert issue here*. While I realize my previous experience and education aren’t an exact match, let me tell you how my schooling and the previous work I have done can actually be an asset in this environment!”
That tells me the applicant at least understands the mission of the office, and can think out of the box how his or her experience will help advance it.
In other words, no one owes you a job. No one owes you a huge salary out of the gate. Temper your expectations, and remember, you are the applicant. It’s up to you to prove yourself, and in order to do that, you need to do some work.
Failure to do so will more likely than not have you working the fast food counter.
This one is near and dear to my heart, as I have two adopted kids. My ex and I were also unable to have another child and suffered a devastating loss when our daughter died at 32 weeks of gestation. There are few things out there more devastating and heartbreaking than having to give birth to a child you know is dead. Having suffered regular miscarriages as well, I am well familiar with what the author of this article – an Army buddy of mine – is feeling. The heartbreak is no less real, and as I tried to get past my own feelings at the time, I also noted with some degree of bitterness that while we were having trouble keeping a baby, my brother and his wife – drug addicts whose children we had to adopt due to neglect brought on by the situation – had started talking about having yet another kid! They didn’t seem to have any trouble conceiving and keeping a baby! (At the time I told my dad that if they even tried to have another kid after giving both of theirs up for adoption due to their inability and unwillingness to give up their drug use, I’d go over there and yank her uterus out through her ass.) Meanwhile, those of us fighting to have children had to face sometimes insurmountable adoption or in vitro costs, as well as multiple heartbreaks every time the child we wanted so badly died.
So here’s Carmen’s story. Please read and share.
When I found out I was pregnant with my second child, I was absolutely elated, but being the realist that I am (o.k., negative person) I prepared myself for signs of a miscarriage. I’m not sure why exactly, apart from the fact that I conceived my first child in the midst of an tumultuous first marriage to a high school sweetheart and let’s face it, things that seem perfect have a tendency to get ruined.
I met my husband about seven years ago and after spending a year long-distance dating, we got married. We didn’t meet online, but instead met playing softball and reconnected a year after my divorce and a year into my husband’s active duty Army contract in Germany. When he returned home, we decided to take it slow, focusing on his career, college, and building our ideal home. After a few months of trying, I noticed my boobs were extremely sore while I was away on a routine business trip. This particular symptom was the tell-tale sign of my first pregnancy, so I decided to take a test. When it came up positive, we were beside ourselves.
My husband was everything my first partner wasn’t. He was there, and not out of guilt. He anxiously waited for cravings to jump into the car at a moment’s notice and appease them. He fetched me Tums when my heartburn was acting up; lectured me about my caffeine intake and told me to take it easy at spin class. We wanted to wait to share the good news with our now six-year-old, but I noticed that Brad (the husband) would lash out at Gabriel (the son), whenever he would lay on my stomach or ask me to jump on the trampoline. Looking back now, he really just wanted Gabriel to see me the way that he did, not the rough and tumble mom and Soldier I once was, but the fragile, baby factory I had become.
I should probably mention at this point, I am in the Army too, and have been about a decade longer than my husband. I had to be especially cautious to get my appointments taken care of because as a member of the National Guard, our Annual Training was coming up, as was my Officer Candidate Course I knew full well I could not participate in as an expectant mother. So I scheduled the earliest appointment I could, but in the meantime we shopped for baby toys and clothes, things I had long since parted with. We cleared out the guest room, chose a spot for the crib, registered at a baby store and set out to tell our closest friends and family. We even had announcement photos taken during our trip to Disney World. In fact, every photo I took I had my hand on my belly so I could one day tell my child that she went to Disney World before she was born. Yes, she was a girl. I had always planned to name my daughter Emily Jane after my late grandmother but one night I had a dream about our baby. I held her in my arms and I told someone standing next to me that her name was Ayden. I looked it up the following morning and found out that it meant “fire.”
Two days after our return from Disney, I was measuring about six weeks based on the date of my last period. I walked into my Daytona-based OBGYN full of hope and excited to see baby Ayden. As I said before, I was prepared for cramps, bleeding, some sign that this pregnancy was not meant to be, but none presented itself, and nothing prepared me for what was about to follow. The sonogram technician could not locate a heartbeat. “No big deal,” I told myself. I was three weeks pregnant with Gabriel when I peed on a stick the first time, so maybe I just wasn’t as far along than I thought. The doctor came in to speak with me however, and informed me that I had a 50/50 shot of having an abnormal pregnancy, one in which I would eventually miscarry or the baby would fail to form. It appeared that I had a fertilized egg and a sack but nothing else. Even thought I had all the symptoms of being pregnant I would not stay that way.
She recommended labs to measure my HCG levels. At the point I was at, they should be doubling. I had them checked the week prior and they were 850. I went to check out choking back sobs and snapped at the secretary trying to schedule me for my next ultrasound when she said “Is this a surprise? Aren’t you excited?” Honestly, don’t these people read charts before popping off at the mouth?! I managed to hold everything in until I reached the car and called my husband, the super excited, amazing father-to-be to tell him everything was not right with the world. In short, I lost it. I couldn’t breath. I couldn’t speak. I just sobbed uncontrollably into the phone, but even in the face of all that negativity, he held out hope that everything would be fine.
When I finally made it to the lab location, I handed the nurses my chart with tears in my eyes. The bitch looked right at me and said “everything happens for a reason.” I wanted to scream. I wanted to shout: “what reason?!” Did I commit some unspeakable sin? Did I cut someone off in traffic earlier that day? Was I going to win a million dollars then next morning but could only collect if I had no baby? What the hell were they saying that to me for?
We waited and prayed for a week, even after the levels came back slightly less than double. We reached out to our church friends who had been praying for us to conceive. We were heartbroken but continued on like we were still going to have a healthy, beautiful baby. Against the orders of my nurse sister-in-law, I poured over internet questions about this issue. The only names I could find for this situation was “blighted ovum,” “silent miscarriage” and “missed abortion.” In almost every situation, the doctor could not find a heartbeat but a few weeks later the pregnant woman returned, undeterred, until finally a heartbeat was found. Other than a few questions in Google, nothing was written on the subject.
My husband and I decided to get a second opinion. It obviously wasn’t the doctor’s fault for having to deal with such a frightening issue, but I felt she could’ve done more research or told me more lightly that my baby was dead and our lives were never going to be the same. On Monday, April 17, we went to visit a highly recommended doctor in Jacksonville. The moment I saw the image on the screen, I knew our worst fears had been realized: there was no baby. The sack was empty, and even smaller than before.
He was very kind, took the time to go over every detail of my six-week pregnancy to conclude that there was in fact nothing he could do. I had had a missed abortion. I had in fact conceived, but my baby could never form – would never form. I would continue to feel and essentially be pregnant until I wasn’t. He determined the best course of action was to perform a D&C, in which they essentially dilate me and remove the sack and tissues in my uterus that are not in fact a fetus.
I left the hospital and drove for an hour in the wrong direction. I blared Metallica and when I got home, drank a bottle of wine. I didn’t want to see anyone. My husband, the gracious and magnificent man that he is, poured me each glass and cried alongside me. My friends and family wanted to come over and help, and I warned them that I was not my chipper self. They would not find me buried in the Bible, sobbing softly, but instead back to my southern roots, tipsy and angry. It didn’t make sense. I did everything right. I had no symptoms. Why was my baby dead?
On Wednesday we checked into the hospital and waited patiently for the surgery. I cried a bit when I had to put on my hospital gown; when I examined my pregnant little belly pooch for the last time, knowing that Brad would no longer place his hand on it hopeful, but out of sadness. All in all, I held it together pretty well until the head nurse came by. He started by saying this was all a legal requirement, but would need to know if the hospital should dispose of the remains of if we had contacted a funeral home. I lost it again. I thought it was tissue. I thought it was a failed pregnancy, not a baby I was having removed from my body – that I did not sign up for.
Eventually we went through with the D&C anyway. It seemed like the best course of action to move past what happened and begin healing. We prayed for Ayden. There will never be another her. We loved her and will never forget her. As I reflect back on these events, I just wish there was more to read. More to prepare myself for what happened. I even found out my mother had the same circumstances between my brother and I, minus the mandatory funeral home talk. I don’t believe that everything happens for a reason, but I do believe that in every circumstance there is an opportunity to help and minister to someone else in pain. My hope is that someone else reads this and knows that they are not alone. Evidently this is yet another scientific mystery that knows no cause. There is nothing you or I could do to make it any easier or to prevent it from happening, but we can share the pain.
Another thought is we fight for women’s rights – reproductive rights especially. There should be healthcare for women. There should be accessible birth control for all. But I can’t help but wonder, are those of us fighting to conceive being represented as well? Adoption costs are still astronomical as are the costs of invitro. It just seems if we are supporting women from all walks of life, our voices should be heard as well and our issues addressed just as swiftly.
For the record, I’ve never had a problem with American Airlines. They were the contract government carrier for the past several years, so when I had to travel, it was usually with American. The staff members were generally kind, understanding, and eager to accommodate. There were inevitable delays sometimes, but generally speaking, the airline was more than happy to help you out when you needed help.
When Danny was traveling from Ft. Lee back to North Carolina last year after graduating AIT, and the Army travel monkeys, in their infinite wisdom and zeal to book the cheapest flight possible, gave him a ticket that took him from Richmond, VA to LaGuardia in New York, and then to Charlotte on a connecting flight, and a delayed flight out of Richmond threatened to force him to miss his New York connection, and would put him on the ground in Charlotte late at night after something like 9 hours of travel, I had him approach the American Airlines gate agent to see if anything could be done. The gate agent took one look at his uniform and his youthful appearance, looked at his ticket, realized the young Soldier had just finished training, laughed at the utter absurdity of putting a passenger on a flight from Virginia to New York, and put him on a direct flight to Charlotte, bumping him to First Class as he did, and thanking him for his service.
So when I condemn airlines for generally bad service, predatory business practices, and utter disregard and outright contempt for their customers, American generally gets a pass from me. That’s why I was pretty surprised when I read the reports of an American Airlines flight attendant getting borderline violent – first with a woman, whom he ostensibly hit with a stroller she was pushing, while dragging her two kids along, and then with a First Class passenger who tried to intervene on her behalf.
The video, posted by another passenger on Facebook, shows a heated confrontation between an AA employee and at least two passengers, ABC reports. The woman is crying and begging the flight attendant for her stroller back. A male passenger in First Class intervenes on her behalf, and threatens the male flight attendant, who ostensibly hit the woman while wrestling the stroller away from her. “Hey bud, hey bud, you do that to me and I’ll knock you flat!” he says. The male flight attendant, visibly pissed off by now, gets in the face of the passenger in what can only be described as a contest to see whose balls are heavier and made out of a more solid metal. Meanwhile the woman is wailing, while the female flight attendants try to calm her down.
American, to their credit, learned a big lesson from United’s public affairs fiasco a couple of weeks ago, in which a passenger was dragged bloodied and unconscious off the flight. Within minutes of the incident, the company issued a public apology and promised to investigate. They put the flight attendant on leave, while the inquiry into the incident continues.
American Airlines in its statement said, “What we see on this video does not reflect our values or how we care for our customers. We are deeply sorry for the pain we have caused this passenger and her family and to any other customers affected by the incident.”
The statement continued, “The actions of our team member captured here do not appear to reflect patience or empathy, two values necessary for customer care. In short, we are disappointed by these actions. The American team member has been removed from duty while we immediately investigate this incident.”
It’s always wise to investigate the incident thoroughly and from all sides of the issue. Some feel American has thrown its employee under the bus in order to avoid a public relations fiasco a la United. I don’t think that’s the case. The wording of the statement is cautious. Yes, they’re investigating. Yes, they acknowledged that the actions of the flight attendant do not appear to reflect patience or empathy. The wording implies that while the video is damning, appearances can sometimes be deceiving, so they’re going to make sure they learn the facts. And they apologize to everyone involved.
That’s customer relations done right.
Another account of the incident tells a different story in a screen shot going around social media this morning.
This account corroborates the airline’s story that the female tried to drag a double wide stroller onto a single aisle aircraft and tried to jam it between the seats. The stroller was too big for the overhead, which is a pet peeve of mine – people who are too cheap to check their brontosaurus-sized bag, so they drag it onto the plane, take 20 minutes to jam it in the overhead, block the aisle, and prevent other passengers from boarding, because they just must have their 70 lbs. of make-up, the plush 5’9″ teddy bear they won at a fair, and their mother-in-law’s carcass stuffed into a large suitcase, in the cabin with them.
When informed she must check the Cadillac-sized stroller, she pitched a fit and began to wail, causing a commotion, which by airline regulations, allows the staff to toss the passengers off the aircraft for safety reasons. The flight attendant apparently did accidentally hit the screeching woman in the face with the stroller as he tried to maneuver it off the aircraft, and it sounds like it was not intentional (although if events unfolded like this account details, I would have been tempted to bitch slap her myself).
The AA male flight attendant shouldn’t have gotten into an immediate dick measuring contest with the first class passenger. He shouldn’t have escalated the situation by sticking out his chest and challenging the other man to a violent confrontation. While I realize, it was a frustrating situation, made worse by the woman’s screeching and the other passenger’s challenge to his manhood, he really needed to just take a step back and calm the hell down. It’s not a dick measuring contest, but a flight, filled with passengers who paid hundreds of dollars just to get to their destinations.
I also agree that the gate crew should have asked her to check the stroller before she boarded. At that point it’s free, and there was no reason for her to be dragging that thing through a tight aisle, inconveniencing other passengers, and slowing down an already uncomfortable boarding process. If she refused… well… that’s what refusing boarding is for.
And finally, this woman. Wow.
What is it that causes some parents to feel entitled to special privileges merely because they saw it fit to shit out a fuck trophy? Why should everyone treat them like special snowflakes and afford them special privileges that ostensibly make them feel justified in transforming into narcissistic pricks? “I have a BABY!” they wail, as if the infant provides them a shield to act like assholes.
And while some parents, cognizant of the noise and inconvenience their kids may cause – especially during a long flight – come up with innovative and considerate ways to mitigate the situation, most simply think others will forgive their little, innocent ones, because they’re oh-so-adorable, and everyone should think so! Babies’ cuteness is a defense mechanism. They’re cute, so parents don’t shove them into a trash compacter after months of not sleeping, vomit, and shitty diapers. That does not make them cute to other people, but some parents think the fruit of their loins must be adorable to everyone, and display an appalling lack of self-awareness and consideration for others.
I have flown with an infant before. Danny was just 7 months old when we traveled stateside from Germany to visit family for the first time. It’s not easy. It’s sometimes loud, inconvenient, awkward, and embarrassing. As parents we do the best we can to ensure our baby’s safety and comfort, but at the same time, would it hurt anyone to also be considerate of our fellow travelers, and maybe not drag a double-wide stroller down a narrow aisle not designed for such accoutrements? Would it hurt to perhaps acquiesce when the flight attendant asks you to check the golf cart you’re trying to jam onto the flight, instead of inconveniencing everyone else on the flight.
Would it have hurt her to be a little less of an entitled, wailing sow?
Judging from the accounts that have come out so far, American did what it had to do, and did it quickly and efficiently. But there were few truly innocent parties in this fiasco, so maybe it’s time for all parties involved to look in their mirrors.