Because I am extremely grown-up, I went on a business trip to New York City. Because I am extremely important, I flew first class.
Before I boarded the plane I gulped down some airport food and beverages to avoid what I thought would be a typical dire airplane meal situation. After all, in coach we peons are forced to buy “snack packs” which guarantee at least three days of constipation. It turns out that first class is a pregnant lady’s dream come true. The flight attendants are warm and attentive. The food and beverages flow like wine at a Bacchanal Festival. And best of all- the bathroom is no further than 12 feet from your chair, and never has a line.
When I first sat down I was timid and unsure of myself. I meekly asked for a class of water, and when offered breakfast I stared at the flight attendant blankly. She listed a few things I could order, so I politely asked for a bagel and strawberries. But once my meal came, I turned into someone else.
Just a bagel? No, please also bring me the yogurt and cereal and a glass of orange juice and ANOTHER glass of orange juice and now I’m talking like I’m drunk of orange juice! Now please hold my tray up so I can blob out of my seat and go to the bathroom for the 10th time! Mwahahaha hot towel? Yes! More water! Yes! I felt like King Henry the 8th minus the leg sores and regicide.
The trip home was just as delightful. I don’t see how I can even go back to sitting in coach. This must be how they get you.
