I spent my entire life working in the airline industry, where the consumer was always the king, but I never thought that I would see the day when the industry would have stooped as low as it has today. The airfares have doubled but gone is the service, gone are the help for and kindness to passengers, and gone is the pleasure of flying. It seems that roles have been reversed. The passenger now is just an inconvenience that needs to be dealt with by the airline with the minimum of effort but at the maximum price.

Last month, after a long spell of not flying anywhere, my wife and I had to go to Los Angeles. We had the (dis)pleasure of experiencing the product that the “;new”; airlines are offering now, designed by the same breed of geniuses that have been losing billions for years and who, instead of finding a way to cut costs and increase productivity, all of a sudden came up with this brilliant idea to pluck yet more money from an already depleted consumer.

  Without mentioning the airline, I will call it “;Flight Misery 2.”;

I always thought that when passengers enter an airport, they become dehumanized, they become objects. We are told where to go, where and when to sit or not to sit, where to stand in line, when to talk or to shut up. All in all, a pretty depressing experience.

At the airport terminal people are catapulting out of cars or taxis (followed by their luggage) because the time given by attendants incessantly whistling and frantically waving their arms is so minimal that one must be in top physical condition to reach the pavement safely.

We made it to the curb, only to be met by an airline employee who, armed with the new authority given to him, asked us (with no greeting or smile), “;How many pieces of luggage do you have?”;

“;Three”; we replied.

“;That will be another $35.”;

Then, looking at the astonishment in my face, he proceeded to say, in a more conciliatory tone, “;Unless you want to take one piece on board with you. In this case you don't have to pay.”;

“;Really,”; I said, “;and why is that?”;

His answer left me speechless: “;It has to do with excess weight. The more luggage you have, the more weight is on the aircraft.”;

Repressing a strong desire to laugh, I thanked him, followed his advice and took the third piece of luggage with us on board, where the excess weight seems to somehow mysteriously disappear.

So much for the highly trained airline staff.

  The check-in was another test of strength and endurance. We, the consumers, having paid thousands of dollars for our tickets, had to carry our luggage to the airline's check-in desk. A young, strong agent was sitting expressionless behind it, looking impassively at us. He pointed a finger at our suitcases and asked, “;Are these yours?”;

We answered affirmatively; he then said, “;How many?”;

“;Two,”; we replied.

“;Put them on the scale, one at a time,”; he said. He then leaned over, put a sticky ticket on the handles and commanded us to remove each suitcase from the scale and take them to the screening point. No airline employee moved a finger to help us, forgetting perhaps that we, the consumers, pay their salaries. Just a small detail.

I will skip the security farce. I will only mention that, although I wore a pair of moccasins so thin that they could not have hidden a toothpick, I was unceremoniously told to remove them and walk barefoot on one of the filthiest pieces of carpet that I have ever seen, where literally thousands of bare feet shuffle through every day. So much for hygiene!

I didn't have any prohibited substances hidden in my shoes, but when I put them back on, I am sure that my feet had collected every type of germ you can imagine. All included in the price of the ticket!

  As for taking liquid on board an aircraft,a 72-year-old lady with diabetes had her bottle of water confiscated by an overzealous security guard/agent/ warden. No big deal, though - she passed through security, walked into a shop and bought another one.

After a ride on an archaic Wiki Wiki shuttle bus, we reached the gate and boarded our Flight Misery 2. We were greeted by attendants who obviously had forgotten how to smile and seemed to want to be anywhere but on that airplane. After all, there was this inconvenient bunch called passengers that they had to look after (sort of). Take-off was uneventful, as it should be, but then we had to sit in a frozen cabin, listening to a litany of what we needed to purchase if we wanted to eat and drink properly or watch a movie.

It was an hour and an half before the attendants robotically passed through the cabin dishing out a cellophane-covered, prepackaged, horrid-looking and nearly frozen sandwich. Take it or leave it. But we were informed that, for an additional $8, we could purchase an “;upgraded”; meal, as if to imply that the one given was substandard (it was).

Drinks (other than a sip of soda or water) were $6 each, movies and headsets (just in case you took your own computer) would cost more money and, by the way, credit cards only. What? Your credit card is in your checked luggage? Sorry, you're out of luck. You want another sip of water? Well, you'll just have to wait. And you don't dare to complain, or at the other end a federal marshal might be waiting for you.

  Toward the end of our flight, the attendants passed through the cabin with a bottle of water, magnanimously dispensing sips to those poor imprisoned souls holding little plastic cups and whose mouths were as dry as their wallets. I remembered that old movie, “;Network,”; and I expected people to start mentally screaming, “;We've had enough and we can't take it anymore!”;

And then we landed! As soon as the aircraft came to a halt, all the passengers stood up simultaneously and reached for their carry-on luggage. The doors were still closed and nobody was going anywhere, but the sense of being free again, to feel human and in control of your decisions, was overwhelming and passengers seemed to have only one desire - to get the hell out of the aircraft. Then the doors opened and passengers began to exit, pushing, elbowing and shoving in their anxiety to get out. Mercifully, Flight Misery 2 was over.

  The final act was played at the baggage carousel where we retrieved our luggage. There we were all on our own, with no airline employee to watch over us and tell us what to do. The airline had our money. So long, sucker.

I was amazed at the change in people's behavior at the luggage carousel. After almost eight hours of being held captive and subdued, they finally found their personalities again. Everyone, including frail old men and women, launched themselves with incredible strength toward their circling suitcases in a frenzy to grab them and get out of the airport.

And as I was watching the former passengers disappear into the night happily pushing their trolleys, I could almost hear these magic words spoken so many years ago: “;Free at last, free at last!”;

Welcome to the 21st Century Airline!