If the aviation industry is truly on the eve of in-flight wi-fi connections, as we’ve been promised over the past few years, Lord help the airlines. The moment this technology becomes widely available in coach, you can expect a daily stream of disgruntled dispatches beamed down from 30,000 feet, filling blogs and online consumer forums with gripes about inedible food, puzzling delays and doubts about the whereabouts of the luggage.

In case you are wondering, yes, I am typing this column from 34,000 feet. But the Continental Airlines flight I have been shoe-horned onto has no such futuristic net connection. Instead, I have to wait to land in San Francisco in a few hours before firing off this column to my editor in London, giving Continental a few hours reprieve from a timely critique.

What has a number of us so perturbed on this flight is an old airline scam that Continental has pulled on us this morning. They’ve over-booked our 8.50 am Newark-to-San Francisco flight. For European travellers who are unfamiliar with over-booking, the practice may startle you. Simply put, America’s Federal Aviation Administration permits airlines to continue selling reservations on a flight long after the seats have sold out. (This is allowed only on flights that originate and terminate in North America.)

It’s the equivalent of buying a concert ticket online and showing up to the venue to find that ticket is not enough to get you in the door. If you want to see the gig, you have to wait outside and hope an uncaring arena employee can convince one of your fellow concert-goers to give you his seat. If you’ve come with a friend, you have to hope two people will give up their seats. Of course, such charity doesn’t exist on the perimeter of a sold-out concert venue, nor does it exist inside an airport terminal as rows are being called. Do-gooders of all stripes want to get to their next destination as soon as possible; to them, the desperate beggars on the sidelines are invisible. And because no sane person will give up his or her seat, no matter how forlorn the pleading party appears, a series of bribes are required to lubricate the negotiations.