First Class
As lead computer geek for the world's largest SETI project, I need to travel to the various partner telescopes from time to time. Past journeys included a few trips to the Parkes Observatory in Australia by way of Sydney. The flights to and from Sydney and San Francisco are a non-stop 14-ish hours. That's a long time to be on a plane.
On the way back from my second visit to Oz, Andrew (one of my far-more-travelled colleagues) used his esteemed United Airlines status to hook me up with a first class upgrade. Aw hell yeah! I looked forward to a level of luxury that's typically not part of my experience. The main improvement being in first class on these epic flights are the large seats that recline all the way so I can sleep and stretch my long legs.
This upgrade came with a pass to the premiere lounge in the Sydney terminal while waiting to board. I filled up on the myriad delicious breakfast buffet offerings before getting on the flight because - perhaps due to being a musician - free food must always enter my body at all costs.
Once I got to my seat I was offered chocolate truffles and champagne. It was like 10am, but fuck it - once again free food (and booze) must always enter my body at all costs. They kept refilling my glass. I down three large servings of champagne and felt pretty loopy by the time they closed the doors and started taxiing the aircraft. I dozed a bit during takeoff while sitting upright (we weren't allowed to recline the seats until we reached altitude).
I came to and felt hungover and a bit queasy from the large breakfast packed down with chocolate and alcohol. Plus I found that, given I was in one of the two front-row middle seats with nobody sitting next to me, fellow first class passengers would cut through my personal cubicle as a short cut to the bathroom. How fucking rude! Eventually one of the stewards lower the other seat to prevent those awful people from entering into my space. He said this was a common problem due to bad design with the seat arrangement.
Soon we were served lunch. I still felt gross from breakfast and the truffles/champagne. They laid a tablecloth onto my tray and passed out the warm wet towels to wipe ourselves down. I was handed the starter plate: lamb pate with tomato jelly cubes and some berry compote with bread. This was followed with a rather scrumptious, fatty pork belly main. Keeping with the pattern of gluttony I consumed all of it. Meanwhile the staff kept forcing red wine on me. I drank like three glasses. And then there was dessert. I kept it small despite all the many choices because ugh my tummy.
I had to sober up and digest for a while, distracting myself with video poker for a couple hours. I used a bunch of miles to pay for an hour of in-flight wifi. It was slow as shit, and effectively useless. I eventually gave up trying to use it. I finally reclined my own seat and tried to sleep.
You'd think the first class cabin is full of rich assholes and showboating tech fuckers. There's some of that to be sure. But largely the population is separated into two other groups. The first, like me, are weirdos of relatively low stature who just happened to get a lucky upgrade. You can spot us infiltrators whenever we scan around to see what others are doing because we're not sure about proper etiquette. It's not obvious what to do when you're handed your first warm wet towel, for example - so you sneakily glance about and replicate the behavior of others, hoping you're not outed as somebody who clearly doesn't belong.
And then there's the other well-represented demographic: the elderly. Old people are over the bullshit of flying economy and I don't blame them. They'll gladly fork over wads of cash to get away from the riff raff and have a higher level of comfort and service. But they bring a chorus a wet coughs and yell-talking at their travel companions over the loud din of the aircraft.
That's all well and good and I mean no disrespect but here's where it gets dicey: my fellow posers and I weren't used to this random heavy cuisine and all-day consumption of adult beverages. And older people have, shall we say, weathered digestive systems. And these sensitive alimentary canals were stuffed with lamb pate and pork belly about 5 hours ago. Plus remember plane interiors are pressurized to something like 7,000 feet above sea level.
And so, I came to being suffocated by the densest fart cloud I've ever experienced. The air in the whole cabin was pretty much unbreathable. I reflexively pulled my shirt over my nose/mouth. I prayed for a hull breach so those oxygen masks would be released from overhead and save me. No such luck. Jesus fucking christ it was pretty hellish.
Somehow my bullied nostrils grew to accommodate the heinous ass pollution around me. I guess it's a good survival mechanism to become accustom to inescapable noxious vapors (instead of just giving up and dying). But that along with the ceaseless hangover (unaided by the involuntary consumption of free cookies and eventually the sweet, buttery breakfast service) I felt absolutely gross. On the bright side (and no pun intended) we had a fairly strong tailwind and landed a bit early. Thank the lord! Get me the hell out of this fart pod!
When back at the lab the following day Andrew asked how my flight in first class went. I said it was wonderful and thank you.