This is awesome I’m in first class. I’ve never sat in first class before. In fact, I usually cropdust the first class on my way to my coach seat. Now I’m here, on the other side of the curtain. I’m sitting next to a woman in a gray business suit while wearing my holy (as in, has holes in it, not as in sacred) (well, kind of sacred) lime green t-shirt. I’m going to fly to Milwaukee in my first class seat.
I don’t really understand why I’m here — the guy behind the Air Tran counter was giving me my seat assignment and said something about a full flight and a mix-up so I have to sit in business class. It might have been a joke on the irony of saying have to, but I didn’t laugh or smile, I just asked if I had to pay extra for it. Twice. No, you don’t. No, you don’t.
The people are filing into their claustrophobic coach seats next to overstimulated infants now, looking at me while I type, wondering about me, judging me. If one of these civilian motherfuckers lays a fart as they pass me I’m having them removed.
My flight attendant just asked if I wanted anything to drink and she did so with the type of smile that suggested she didn’t hate me/herself . The flight hasn’t even taken off and I’m about to have a drink! I panicked and said “water” — so stupid! I should have ordered a mojito. A free mojito. A free mojito Goddammit. I said “water” because the lady in the grey business suit next to me said “water” — she followed it up with “bottled water” like they serve anything else on airplanes. She’s probably never flown coach and assumes that people back there drink from the bathroom sink tap. It’s always bottled water, idiot. She has a System Info Spreadsheet up on her laptop. I am writing a road journal about cropdusting on mine.
Good news, the water has arrived, and it’s a kind of water I’ve never heard of. Icelandic Glacial. Italic Glacial. Italic Abuse Glacial.
Since the photograph of the water bottle, we’ve flown over Pennsylvania. It takes a full hour, but during that hour I was presented with a basket of luxurious snack items and I took three of them because the gray lady took three of them. Jaxon’s Twice Baked Potato Stix With Sea Salt & Cracked Pepper. Nature’s Valley Oatmeal Raisin Granola Bar. Pepperidge Farm Brussels cookies — no Milano’s today? (rolls eyes).
And let’s talk about beverages. Have you ever wondered what it’d taste like to suck water out of the naturally replenishing Olfus spring in the glacier-tastic town of Solfuss, Iceland? I’ll save you the trip. It tastes like water, with a little milk in it. Kind of like if I don’t rinse my daughter’s sippy cup enough.
They’ve now asked me four times if I want something to drink. Can they tell I’m still trying to figure out if I should be drinking my water? I ordered a ginger ale because I thought it’d sound sophisticated and because maybe it’d get them to stop asking me if I wanted a drink. And with my headphones on, Shirley Ellis blasting in my ears, and sweet ginger ale on the rocks in a cup on my extra large tray table, life is pretty good tonight. I think I’ll just recline my leather seat and rest my eyes a bit, maybe let myself drift off…
— “Sir… sir… Excuse me. Sir?”
— “Would you like some more ginger ale?”
“No I’m fine, thanks.”
A minute later, the attendant is back, filling my ginger ale to the rim anyway. I look up and she gives me a smirky nod, like, “everyone who says they don’t want more ginger ale really secretly wants to be woken up to get more ginger ale”…
Now that’s service.
Some final first class observations…
1) The lady in the gray business suit is not happier than other people with suckier airplane seats. In fact, she seems sadder.
2) You can still cropdust the first class while sitting in the first class.
3) I am never drinking Icelandic Glacial spring water again, even though the bottle is shaped like a neat icy mountain. It tastes horrible. I’d rather drink water from the sink in the bathroom. Or the toilet, while it’s doing its loud pressurized flush that once sucked that person’s small intestine out of their body through their butt. You know that story. Don’t make me find a link to it.