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Stories
You know I actually had forgotten all about how it was to be in a mob. I mean to say in school, the younger years, you really are, in most aspects a mob. At least in the school I went to where my class had been together since day one and stayed together for nine years. We were like one unity, all of us running in the same direction and then when all the kids of the same year got together is was even more like that. But I digress.
I was at home this weekend as it was Hallowe'en and we had one day with no classes and my parents are moving so I thought I'd go home, eat food and help pack the remainder of my stuff left there. That didn't take long and I had good food and I saw my family, which is always nice. But yesterday it was time to go home to Uppsala again. (Ever notice how home changes? At Uni home is home and at home home is at Uni). The flight were all pretty full booked, but I still wanted to fly standby as it was only one fifth of the normal ticket price and a third of the normal stand-by price being a holiday and all, so I went to the airport early to make sure I bought a ticket early and would make an early flight. Mom drove me and when I got there at 6.45:ish there were only three other people there, all kids, wanting to fly stand-by. Only thing was, the machines that so handily prints out the ticket were broken. Both of them. And the SAS counter didn't open until eight. So we sat there waiting nicely, more kids rolled in, more parent's came along. More kids came to see that the ticket machine was broken. Then one father came to look at the machine, his daughter came to stand next to him, some other kids went ahead and stood themselves behind those two, and in less than a minute there was a massive line orming in front of the ticket machines. This was at 7.30 or so.
And, as the machines might start workin I too stood up and took a place in the line, I was not abut to jsut sit there and watch everybody that had come in after me get a ticket before I did. At eight am an airportofficial came ut to the SAS ticket counter she hollered for us at the machine that they were broken and we were all to come to her.
This was when the mob was definitely formed. I have heard the term "jungle law" and now I got a nice demonstration of it. Everyone started walking over, one person broke out in a run and the rest joined him/her (I can't remember). I was not too far back but I still got overtaken by a whole bunch of people. The nice lady explained that the machines were broken and that they would have to print out the tickets at the counter, and we were therefore to be given a control number which would be our stand-by number. Up until that point there had been two queue-like masses of people in front of the two ticket counters, now the airport official was nearly crushed against the wall. She tried to get the mob to calm down and said as she was handing out the numbers that this is a conscience question, that we were to try to remember our order so that the ones that had been there the longest would get a low number. I don't know if many people listened to her. People were pushing and shoving and I, being quite tall, stretched out my hand to get a number - which I did. It was number 23. So I sighed a small sigh of relief. She had said that there was some 55 seats available in the first flight, so the chances of me getting on that plane were largeish with number 23. By the time I had gotten my bags, which I'd left by the ticket machine, nearly all the kids had gotten their stand-by number and there were two orderly queues in front of the ticket counter, so I stood myself last on one of them to get my ticket printed out and so that I could hand my luggage in before time. I got my ticket, almost forgot to pay for it, handed my luggage in and got a little tag on my ticket and then I went to the gate and into the lounge area. There I called mom to tell her that I had gotten a seat on the plane. I also raported that I was somewhat frightened.
It was not a very nice feeling being in the middle of that mob rushing to get stand-by numbers. Not a nice feeling at all. Rather scary actually. I felt like calling my Mommy. Which, in fact, I did.
97-11-03
