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Two week ago I flew from Austin, Tx to Seattle, W.A. for a trip to Alaska. I try to avoid flying with DELTA ( Don’t Expect Luggage To Arrive) because it seems they find any reason to delay the flight. On my trip to W.A. they announced, “Sorry ladies and gentleman, there was a flat tire, your flight will be delayed 30 minutes.” Evidently they miscalculated the time it would take to change a 12,000 lb commercial airplane. My question was who was the genius who said 30 minutes?  

 

On the trip back to Texas they announced, “It seems as though one seat is stuck in the reclining position, it will take a few moments to fix it.”  I’m surprised they didn’t say in 30 minutes, but  oh wait, 25 minutes later the pilots noticed a light turned on they had never seen before. “Once they figure out what it is, ladies and gentleman, we will proceed with the boarding of first class.”

They had never seen it before? I should have questioned the pilots license to fly me home safely, instead I’m thinking, ‘who cares?! The ‘check engine’ light comes on in my car all the time! LETS GO!’ I clearly need to get my priorities straight. I then notice, after its too late, the passengers of my flight are already in line.  Apparently customer service is finding everybody a new flight. oops. This is what happens when I get hooked on a book.

I suddenly turn to “Amazing Race” zone. I’m walking to other boarding desks while on the phone with my mom to help get me on another flight. Yes, I still and will always ask for her help. She’s calling DELTA airlines while I’m at another desk trying to find another flight. Everything will be booked by the time I get to the front of the line I’m supposed to be standing in. By the end of the hectic process of finding myself another flight in time, I am afraid to say it was a failed attempt.

HA! Yeah, right. My mother exceeds her expectations every time. I had the first most comfortable seat. Yes, poor people, I’m talking about first class.

As I sit in my plush seats with pillow and blanket in my lap, I cant help but feel like a stuck up daddy’s girl. It was great. Immediately the flight attendant asks if I would care for a beverage while I wait for the other ‘poor people’ to board. “Vodka and Cranberry?” | “Right away.”

See that? That’s my mind being blown. Free alcohol in a plane. Can this be real? I lean over and ask the businessman, wearing no socks, if everything is complementary in first class. “Everything is complementary in first class.”

… 5 drinks later I’m asking the flight attendant for warm peanuts. | “I don’t have warm peanuts, but I can offer you as many snacks as you would like. | “I suppose that will do.” | “All right, and would you like another?| I do the one nod like everybody else in first class.

When my mom picked me up I got in the back seat saying, “Home, James.” Word of advice, mothers don’t prefer to play butler and rich man games. On the way home she lectured me about me humbling myself and ‘I’m taking the wrong lesson from being in first class’ — which was given to me by the Grace of God — strictly stating I should be thankful.

All I took from it is I’m going to work my ass off in my career so I can have that feeling again.

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