Great rejoicing over the news that we had another airline coming to town. Better yet, it leaves town, too.
We like Sun Country because it's local and sometimes they serve hot dogs, but they don't go everywhere. AirTran: an experience as romantic and exotic as the name itself. Delta -- well, many regard Delta as the southern strumpet who broke up the family, married dad, dumped him and now lives in his house.
Spirit's the newcomer, and the big surprise was the fare: $9.
Even though you suspect there's 37 feet of scrolling fine print on the website (Void on Earth; passenger may have to carry pig on lap), you can't help but look at your family, count 'em up and think: Wow, we can to go Hawaii for less than a trip to Perkins.
Of course, they don't go to Hawaii for $9, but they do offer to fly you to Chicago or Las Vegas for under 10 bucks.
How? Do they lash people together into bundles of six and store them on palettes in the cargo hold?
Fine, if that's the case. I don't care if the planes are packed. I'm short. As long as Beefy McLinebacker in the seat in front of me doesn't suddenly recline while my tray table's down and fracture my sternum, I can endure a lot for $9. I can even skip the munchkin pack of ceramic pretzels.
But ...