Monday, October 8, 2012

Up Where We Belong

My 30th birthday involved a lot of excitement: a trip across the country, lots of wine, amazing meals and lifetime memories. And because The Fourth likes to, as he says, "take things to the next level," he booked us FIRST CLASS plane tickets.

Now, maybe you're all swanky and this is nothing special. But I'm used to being smushed next to a random stranger who brought an egg sandwich on the 5:30am flight and I can literally hear my stomach flipping over.

But FIRST CLASS is nothing like the dregs of coach. It was glorious walking past all the peons when they called us to board the plane before everyone else. Usually I'm still standing there when they call "Okay, now we'll board Zones 5, 6 and the rest of you who won't have any room for your carry-on bags."

The flight attendant even stopped the line of people boarding so she could bring me some coffee. Those poor schmucks in Zone 8.

And the room to stretch! I'm not very tall. In fact, I'm not tall at all. But there was an obscene amount of room, especially since we were on the bulkhead. Obviously, I had to take a fuzzy picture with our iPad to prove this point:

The Fourth, of course, copied me. His picture is less fuzzy.

And do you know how much food you get in FIRST CLASS? I am one part impressed and 1 part embarrassed at how much I had. I was a little hesitant at first, not wanting to impose. But then I realized that you only turn 30 once, so what the heck.

I had:
4 cups of water {in a real glass, mind you}
2 cups of coffee {yep, in a real ceramic mug}
2 Bloody Marys {I asked for a mimosa, but they said they had no champagne. Geez, air travel really has declined.)
Cinnamon pecan french toast
2 links of turkey sausage
Cooked apples
Buttermilk biscuit with butter and jam
Bowl of fresh fruit
Snack mix {With Sesame sticks! Much better than pretzels}

The Fourth's enormous glass of wine. Cause that's how they do in FIRST CLASS.

Unfortunately, our tickets were not FIRST CLASS on the way home. Can I explain my misery? I felt dirty. I felt cramped. I felt very hungry. I asked the flight attendant for the good snack mix with sesame sticks and she acted like she didn't know what I was talking about. I mumbled some not very nice words, but I realize it was just because I was hungry.

Unfortunately, The Fourth has created a monster and I officially declared that I will never {ever} travel coach again. It might be the most dangerous thing to happen to our bank account.

Eating and Drinking,
Mary Douglass

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