Straight from the Container

Image via New Stuff On Podsville!

It’s official. I’m over coach. Not only is my hometown (and my job’s home base) 2300 miles away, so I spend four hours at a time on flights regularly throughout the year, my husband and I travel with his family to Michigan once a year. A part of Michigan that no one flies to directly. So we end up killing a lot of time in Minneapolis, getting drunk at the airport Chili’s, between flights.

Peak operating hours at our destination airport.

The last time we flew to Michigan, we took a heinous red-eye flight to maximize our vacation time, but apparently minimize our sleeping time. Already not good/murderous at trying to sleep on a plane (I am 5′9″ and I can barely even sit upright comfortably in coach), we were treated to a blow-by-blow of some guy’s kayak business and how well it was doing, loud enough the whole cabin could hear. Seriously, the government could put this guy to use as a sleep deprivation specialist. He was a balding guy with a ponytail — what else do you really need to know?

So this time I decided, I don’t care, we are flying business class. I am going to have legroom, a private movie screen, and all the free drinks I can handle. I started out booking our tickets online, pleasantly surprised that they were more affordable than I expected. I was all set to book when I figured out that the booking agent I was using only dealt with coach tickets. I was too far gone at this point — I was going to have business class, no matter what. I began to feverishly compare and contrast flight times and rates and finally settled on a fare that seemed, okay, high, but doable! So totally worth it! I cannot be stopped! I wasn’t. I bought the tickets. They were a ridiculous price. Seriously, I think we got our honeymoon week in St. Lucia for cheaper than two damn tickets to the middle-of-nowhere, Michigan. As soon as I hit the submit button and came down somewhat from my ordering high, the grim reality of how much money I just paid hit me. I mean, we are determined to just enjoy it, as there’s no undo. We’re going to sprawl about and drink as much free vodka as they’ll let us and yell “Suck it, monkeys!” Tina Fey-style as we board first.

And then I will probably never, ever do this again.*

*hell, i know i’ll do it again; i’ll just order earlier next time because i am incorrigible and it’s worth it to me because i hate all people