Obscenity in the skies

Posted on March 5, 2010

0


I don’t understand what possible advantages business class might offer over an otherwise adequate economy flying experience when you’re on an hour long flight out of the UK. In this day and age such flagrant wastes of money shows nothing but arrogance.

I’m thinking this (and how my natural sense of indignance about mostly everything around me has returned to normal levels)  as I watch the stewardess place the intercom back into its cradle and remain true to her promise of complimentary refreshments. A cupboard door is unclamped and under the control her careful hand out rolls the trolley.

If we’re all getting drinks and snacks during , what’s the point of sitting in business class? I may be fighting a mild-case of air-rage on account of the businessman to my right sitting in my window seat and not his own aisle seat, but other than that I’m happy with the space I’m afforded in my public-service economy seat.

I watch as the stewardess smiles at the man sitting in the business class row in front of me. She hands him a small tray of tasty morsels. My heart skips a beat. I do so like those little trays full of food which will make little impact on my stomach even if they do shoot the daily calorific content up like a rocket. “Would you like any drinks with that?” she asks.

Drinks??! We gets drinks-plural as well as a tray of goodies?!!!! Dear God. This is brilliant. Why the hell have those two fools in front of me incurred a business class ticket? The idiots.

“Sir,” asks the stewardess as she offers me the same warm smile, “what can I get you?”

“I’d like a tomato juice and a cup of tea please,” I reply. I settle myself in my seat as she stretches across the trolley, deftly dropping some ice-cubs into a tumbler,pouring a cup of tea and retrieving a mixer-size can of tomato juice seemingly all at the same time. Tomato juice on a flight is the height of glamour when it’s too early to tuck in to a glass of cheap red wine.

“There you go,” she says placing both drinks on the tray in front of me. “Now then. Which roll would you like ? Ham and lettuce or tuna and sweetcorn?”

My smile fades from my face as I reluctantly, plumping for the rather dry looking ham and lettuce and wondering how long its been contained in its cellophane wrapper. “Thank you.” I say politely in my best public service voice.

Next time I’ll stick with just a tomato juice and pass on the ham and lettuce roll. I’m definitely not flying business class. I don’t see the point. I’m a martyr to my own principles.


Advertisements
Posted in: Internet