I used to be an airline ticket agent at DCA, National Airport in Washington, DC. One afternoon, sometime in the late 1970s, a young man showed up, checking in for a flight, and he had several guitars with him. I told him he not only had to pay excess baggage rates for the guitars, but he also needed to carry them down to the gate because if I took them, they'd get put down our baggage chute, which was a barely controlled drop that honestly sometimes destroyed luggage. Once I was done with all that, and I will say that I recall he was polite and cooperative despite my aggressiveness, a fellow agent came over to me and asked to see the excess baggage form I'd filled out. He then made me look at the passenger's name. Arlo Guthrie. Oh, my. I had not recognized him, but the other agent had. I will probably never again meet Arlo Guthrie, but I feel, after all these many years, that I owe him an apology.
I had a certain amount of discretion about excess baggage. One time I was checking in a couple on their way to Philadelphia who had six or seven extra bags, beyond their free limit. I was writing up the excess baggage charges when they mentioned they were on their way to somewhere in Africa because they were now in the Peace Corps. I promptly voided the excess baggage charges, told them why (mainly because my very best friend then and to this day was a former Peace Corps Volunteer) but also told them that the next agent might not be as understanding. I have always hoped the next agent was as understanding.
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