The last few days have been rather agonizing, filled with endless debate and decision making (or indecision making) about very important things. I don’t believe I would like to recount it right now. I did, however, have a very good time flying in First Class, and I think that would be more fun to write about at the moment.
On the last, shortest leg of our flight Sunday, Lee and I flew First Class. The person who booked the seats got us the upgrade. I’m not sure how, but was definitely happy about it.
I’ve never flown First Class before, so when we boarded the plane I took my usual right turn, looking for my seat. I was disappointed to find all the seats looked the same, and thought to myself, “this is such a short flight and such a small plane, there really is no distinction between First Class and coach. Oh well. Nice try.”
Only then did Lee point out that First Class was to my left. Ahhhh. There it was, a section of the cabin with only two seats per side rather than three. The seats were large and puffy and vinyl and so spacious I felt I could waltz on them.
As the rest of the passengers tright to find ways to contort themselves into their coach seats, I enjoyed some wine. We took off, and as the other passengers dined on pretzels, I got a snack mix that included peanuts. I got a mixed drink and they served it in a GLASS. With a stirrer.
On the other legs of our trip, I had grown very nervous about the landing. I don’t know why, but I had squeezed Lee’s hand in a death grip at the slightest hint of turbulance.
But it’s amazing what a glass of wine and half a cocktail on a 45 minute flight will do for nerves. As the plane lowered toward the ground, I thought, “it’s okay if I die. I’ve lived a good life.”
Bottom line, First Class RULES. I need to go play the lottery now so I can make it First Class forever.