This will be a short post, because I can’t bring myself to accept how big of an idiot, or how far in the hole I now am; although, I do like to relive my short stint of luxury. I won’t even try to justify my slip up, but rather pretend that the extra $355 (on top of the original $282.60) I accidentally dropped was totally worth it…because it was. Since I’m sure you’re dying to know what I did to deserve writing such a post, I’ll waste no more time, and tell you. But first! Let me say that it was an honest mistake that any elated jack-off could make in a state of haste: I upgraded my coach ticket to first class.
I really don’t mean to offend anyone by this, but I went through what I call a Retard Moment. I’ll set the stage:
In a spur-of-the-moment decision, I decided to fly from LA to Myrtle Beach, where I met my family (on Sunday) for our annual vacation. It was wonderful. Midweek, I drove to Ohio (sorry to those of you whom I did not visit) to rendezvous with a special little lady, and planned on flying back to LA the next Monday. All was going too well; I found a cheap flight with great hours, met with some old friends, and had an overall amazing time.
It was time to leave. Although I did not arrive at the airport terribly late, I did not necessarily have time to play paddle dick; so, I sadly said my goodbyes, and stepped in to claim my ticket. Here’s where my wallet started hating me.
Coming from a state of euphoria, to utter depression; also, feeling a sense of urgency to make my flight, and then topping it all off with the anxiety of returning to real life the next day by working both jobs upon return, putting over a quarter work week into one day, after not working at all…obviously, like that previous run on sentence, my mind was a shitmess.
So, at check in, I didn’t realize that I happened to agree on upgrading my coach ticket to first class. It just all goes by so fast! Knowing that I had already purchased my ticket should have raised a red flag; putting my credit card into that damn machine should have raised another; and receiving a receipt should have raised yet another! But under such physical and emotional strain, I did not put everything together until I stepped onto the aircraft.
(Upon boarding) Me, “Seat 1A, where’s my perfectly fine, coach class seat? Seat 1A…1–A. Almost like the steak sauce. I don’t see it. Coach starts at 4A. This makes no sense; the only 1A seat I see is in—”
I shat my pants. Then, I looked at my bank statement, and continued to shit myself. Luckily, they had some spare underwear in first class—must be for RM’s like this one. After a quick change and complimentary shot of whiskey, I sat down, reclined my large seat, and accepted the loss. I’d say that was one of the greatest mistakes I think I ever made, right next to the cab ride I took in Jamaica (I’ll save that for another day).
They treat you almost like royalty in the front of the plane; it’s like they want you to spend all that money, the next time. I’m so tempted to never fly coach, again. It’ll be hard to sit on another flight without that big chair, booze, and an in-flight meal, all of which is–sort of–free! All right, maybe it wasn’t that great, and I’ll have to pinch my pennies a little harder for the next few months; but hey, I’m a first class flyer, bitch! How many people can say that? Then again, how many people care to say that? Shit, how many people prefer not to say that because of the money they save?
With all of the money I spent, I really should have gotten more. My mediocre meal should have been five fucking stars; there should have been a complimentary lap dance; I should have gotten a knob-message; they should have had someone typing this blog for me during said message; I should not have been cut off of my drinks; pulling my pants down should have not only been acceptable, but encouraged; I should not have had to demand a visit to the pilot station (due to the connotation, I will not call it the cock pit); in fact, they should have asked me if I wanted fly the plane; and finally, going to coach section to fart in people’s faces should not have been frowned upon: they are peasants, after all.
I mean, Jesus! Do they have to make itso easy to accidentally accept that upgrade? What a damn scam! As if they don’t make enough money. Nope, they have to commit airway robbery on some poor-ass dude just trying to make a living, and visit with some loved ones in the mean time. Boy, when I do make some dough, I’m buying out US Airways, and then making it go bankrupt; that ought to teach them. Okay, I went on a little rant, and the post was longer than expected–get over it. Anyway, I don’t think I even need to restate why Dan Ray Sucks, but if you fly anything other than first class, then you suck, too.
Tips to suck less:
-Leave a comment.
-fb/tweet/just tell your friends, friends’ friends, random bums–I don’t care, just do it.
-Don’t tell my parents how big of an idiot I am.
-Finally, pay a little attention, especially when it costs you a paycheck.