Gulliver’s Travel’s

11 03 2009

I’ve never had the privilege of  flying first class. My moneys have strictly relegated me to coach. The best I can do is hope a passing stewardess flings open the drapes separating the surfs from the nobleman just enough to catch a glimpse of the luxury. 

That was until some twist of fate landed my fat ass in the double wide, drink as much as you like, almost too much leg room world of first class.

Viscous and I had bid my parents and their condo farewell. They dropped us off at the airport where we quickly made use of the Northwest valet baggage service. It only came to my attention later that we were complete and utter pricks. Those baggage valet chumps only work off of tips… Guess his tip became my airport BK value meal.

We made our way through security. Which still baffles me. The fact I have to take my shoes, belt, second pair of sox and toupee (if I had one) off after walking through a freakin metal detector always blows my mind. I wonder what the procedure is if the threat level gets raised out of the constant “Orange” status. 

We finally arrived at our gate a scant 30 minutes before boarding. We approached the desk, handed the lady our tickets and sat down. She said she’d call us up when our seats were assigned. Finally we were beckoned forward. She handed us the tickets and my eye immediately was fooled. “Cabin: First”. Surely that didn’t mean first class.

“Vicious. Are we first class?” I said.

“No way man, that can’t be right,” He answered.

“I’m gonna check,” and check I did.

Constant refills, spacious leg room, a free three course meal….It was travel heaven. The best part? Everyone around us were doctors. If anything happened, like me going into cardiac arrest from the food, open heart surgery was a seat away. 

Lesson learned. If you don’t get your seat assignment till checking in at the gate, come a little late. It might just pay off… handsomely.




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