My reaction on reading this at Instapundit was that it wouldn’t happen in Australia:
Has anyone ever helped pop my bag up into the overhead compartment? Nope. Have I seen any other woman helped? Nope.
This week, an engineer in his 50s just stood there in the aisle, his hands clasped, as I played Olympic weight-lifting with my suitcase right in front of him. Just stood there, looking intently at the sticky carpet. Probably afraid to chip a nail or something.
Has the women’s liberation movement really scared the bejesus out of men this much?
When did it become chivalrous to steadfastly look away and not bother to help?
If a 6am flight is anything to go by, you’d think the concept of a gentleman was well and truly dead.
I promise you, I won’t get angry or defensive or give you attitude, I’ll in fact be super-grateful and flash you an extra-big smile despite the lack of sleep.
Turns out, this was taken from The Age in an article titled, Quit hitting on me and help me out. I guess it could happen in Australia after all.