
Let’s make this clear: I’m a reasonable person. I’m not asking for the meals to be not disgusting—sure, that’ll be nice, but I’ve allowed capitalism to do worse. I’m simply taking issue with the fact that of the two meals, one is clearly the winner, and every passenger would know immediately if they have chosen the winner.
It’s as if there’s not enough contempt being built as the guy sitting next to me takes off his shoes then socks, I now need to spend the next three hours knowing he kicked my ass with those bare feet in the “Chicken or beef?” game. Beef? You bet I got beef. I got a whole lotta beef.
It is common courtesy to order the same thing as the person sitting next to you, yes. But should a simple disobedience to that rule mean utter humiliation for the rest of the flight? That seems too hard a pill to swallow. Why are our only options “surrender free will and order the same thing” or “open hostility”? Does the commercial airline really need more division?
Also, I see no reason this should be a complete game of chance. Let’s be honestly, the names of the foods give away nothing. “Chicken pasta” can mean “chicken fillets, some vegetables that are—surprisingly—actually green, and some pasta” or “90% pasta—half overcooked half raw, and a chicken breast rectangle”, and the two are severely different. The only thing the name “beef rice” guarantees is that at least one cow was sacrificed in the entire manufacturing of this dish, but is that enough information to decide whether that is the dish I prefer? To run through every potential scenario of the dish and calculate the probabilities? To mentally map the choices of the people surrounding me and infer the consensus? With the joy of the rest of my flight and my self-respect on the line? No, sir. If you must give them a name, let it be “Chicken that’s better” and “Beef that’s worse”.
The phrase “mashed potatoes” can go only one of two ways. Sometimes a light and creamy superior to the bread that’s hard but somehow also squishy, other times vegan glue. If “mashed potatoes” is one of the options, everybody knows it’s on. It’s a bloody bet that will only end in utter regret in either the choosers or the non-choosers. Who thought it was a good idea to include in airplane food something that is a hit-or-miss at even Thanksgiving dinner? Nobody boards an airplane expecting mashed potatoes. Airlines offer them for no reason but to stress out their passengers. What a sick game this is that charging seat selections or cutting leg room begin to look like fair play.
Just make the meals equally bad. That shouldn’t be too hard (unlike the bread you offer). You can even just prepare the exact same food and give them different names—nobody could tell. Not knowing what animal my meat is from is a price I’m more than willing to pay for the comfort of knowing I won’t be getting looks of pity and relief from my fellow passengers for the entirety of the flight. Of all the uncertainties and unfairness in this world, maybe this one we can preclude.