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DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHO I AM?

During the final days at Denver’s old Stapleton airport, a crowded United flight was canceled.

The single agent was rebooking a long line of very inconvenienced and frustrated travelers. Suddenly an angry passenger pushed his way to the desk in front of all the others. He slapped his ticket down on the counter and said, “I HAVE to be on this flight and it has to be FIRST CLASS.”

The agent replied, “I’m sorry sir. I’ll be happy to try to help you, but I’ve got to help these folks first, and I’m sure we’ll be able to work something out.”

The passenger was unimpressed. He asked loudly, so that all the passengers behind him could hear, “Do you have any idea who I am?”

Without hesitating, the gate agent smiled warmly and grabbed her public address microphone. “May I have your attention please?” she began, her voice bellowing throughout the entire terminal. “We seem to have a passenger here at the gate WHO DOES NOT KNOW WHO HE IS. If anyone can help him find his identity, please come forward to the gate.”

With the folks behind him in line now laughing hysterically, the man glared at the United agent, gritted his teeth, and spat out the words, “F… you.”

Without flinching in the least, the agent smiled politely and said, “I’m terribly sorry, sir, but I’m afraid that you’ll have to stand in line for that, too.”

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