If you want to see stupid people at work, try flying out of Vegas on a late Sunday evening.
Jumpseating on Southwest and sitting in the back, one of the last to board, standing in line in the jetway, the guy in front of me turns around and asks me if I'm a pilot. Yeah, I guess the uniform gave it away. But, I tell him, him I'm just along for the ride, kind of like him, as a passenger so to speak. Then he says, "Man, I am so hammered." Great. Guess who I end up sitting next to? As I'm taking the seat next to him he says as loud as he can: "Hey dude, shouldn't you be in the cockpit? Who's going to fly this thing?"