Coming back from RNO after the races in '02 the flights were full and the standby list long (go figure). The agent saw the "CJ" next to my name on the list (AA Sabre code for Cabin j/s authorized) and asked if I'd take a cabin j/s to get another non-rev on. Gee, where would I rather be... in the nice cavernous aft galley of the 737 with my legs stretched out chillin' with all the elbow room I could dream of, ooooooor stuck in a middle seat in row 38 squished between 2 pot-bellied middle aged men fighting me for the armrests. I'll take the jumpseat, please!
That lower-priority non rev did me a favor! He and the agent were all, "Oh thank you! Now I"ll get on!" and I was like, "No, really, it's okay, I don't mind taking the j/s, really."
That lower-priority non rev did me a favor! He and the agent were all, "Oh thank you! Now I"ll get on!" and I was like, "No, really, it's okay, I don't mind taking the j/s, really."