I’ve flown third-class many times in my life as have most people. That’s always been my mode of travel when flying somewhere because of cost. I went “cargo status” one trip in a tiny Cherokee Lance aircraft, sitting on cases of food destined for a rural Alaskan village. My butt was frigid by the time we arrived-warm flesh having become well-acquainted with Green Giant brand frozen vegetables.
Far as I know I’ve only flown “second-class” twice in my life. The first time was when a flight attendant walked up asking if I’d mind sitting in the first row. They’d overbooked third-class (coach) and my seat was needed.
The next occasion was when I transported our Yellow Nape Amazon parrot “Jesse” from Alaska to Arizona. Alaska Airlines made me purchase a second-class ticket, saying there’d be more room up front where carrier size was concerned. It cost me a few extra dollars to do so but was worth it in the end (pun intended). The airline should’ve paid me, because Jesse entertained the dozen or so passengers from takeoff to landing, not allowing me any time to snooze.
I have a friend always telling folks he strictly travels first-class. I once corrected him by saying he actually travels second-class. That upset the fellow and he quickly responded,
“There is no such thing as second-class!”
I’ve had other friends and acquaintances tell me the same with them all being in error. By now, you’re probably wondering what is this guy talking about?
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The first time I actually “thought” I was flying first-class was actually a misnomer on my part. Leaning back in my cushy leather seat, I was on top of the world. The flight attendant had just brought a steamy hot towel, at the same time inquiring what entrée I wanted for dinner with there actually being a choice.
Glancing around the cabin, I observed what appeared to be business people, yet recognized no celebrities, sports jocks, or politicians. Business folks generally sit up front because of their abundant frequent flier miles. In my strange way of seeing things, I’d just become Mr. Big and planned on savoring every moment of it!
As we waited for a motorized tug to pull the Boeing 747 away from our terminal, I looked out my window seeing something quite spectacular. Several hundred feet away was a brick, two-story, executive flight facility, with sleek Lear jets and Cessna Citations parked on the asphalt tarmac in front of it.
“Just one time”, I thought to myself.
As I continued staring, a shiny black limousine rolled up. The driver stopped in front of a short set of stairs connected to one of the executive jets. This well dressed man then quickly exited, and walked to the rear of his limo, opening doors for a middle-age couple and their two children.
The family looked just as excited as they entered their stylish jet, as I had entering second class on the 747. They also exhibited the same giddiness as folks on a commercial flight bound for Hawaii or Vegas for the first time do.
I continued to stare as the limousine driver unloaded bags, and then accepted a tip from what I assumed to be a crew member. That’s when the thought struck me,
“That’s first-class!”
Years ago my brother equated passengers boarding airplanes to cattle boarding trucks. The thought stuck to my mind like gum in hair. These days I smile strolling through the front section of a plane. I can’t help but think,
“All these bovine actually believe they’re traveling first-class!”
On an airplane junket several years back, my brother-in-law Calvin bellowed like a steer upon entering the craft. He could imitate the sound to perfection. As if rehearsed, some guy standing behind us let out a perfect,
“Mooooooo”.
Several people in line laughed. A flight attendant also found it amusing. As we strolled through the forward section not one chuckle came from these folks.
If you were to ask why, I’d say those travelers didn’t want anyone thinking, that they came from the same herd as the rest of us!
I like to write junk... 