Unfortunately I missed their Irene fee waiver by one day. Okay, distasteful but I can respect their limit.
Seating was a problem. The staffer was very sweet and very insistent about having no window seats ... but on a later flight, there is one on the aisle.
After being straight-faced and literal about my limitations, then hearing her say "aisle seat" with a straight face, I sorta gave up. I confessed, "I would rather be BEATEN with a CATTLE PROD than sit in an aisle seat."
I didn't shout, I really didn't. But I know there was a certain amount of top-spin on the words, because the person in front of me on the bus flinched.
Things changed. I won't use her words because they were ignorant and would sound too harsh without the audible melting that happened, but she found me exactly the seat I'd have ordered if I had the whole cattlecar to choose from.
I hate bitching about this condition and I don't like to be so explicit about what it does to me, but sometimes that's what it takes. So this evening I'll raise a glass (or mug) to, "Humanity -- in spite of ourselves."