I GUESS I KNOW MY PLACE

On the way back home we flew out of George Bush Intercontinental Airport. I don’t know why they call it that. What the fuck’s wrong with International? Why intercontinental? Hell, more planes flying in and out of New York, Los Angeles, and Chicago actually fly between continents than they do from George Bush. Why don’t they, in the spirit of the bombastic asshat the airport is named after call it the “Intergalactic” airport or, even better, honor his dumbfuck son and call it the “Intergalactical” airport? That would fit.

So, when I fly on business, which isn’t all that often, I have to fly coach. My company wouldn’t even spring for business class, let alone first class. If I flew a lot, perhaps I would join a frequent flyer club and when I accumulated enough miles I could upgrade once in a while. Anyway, after sitting down in my seat, and just prior to the plane (a Boeing 737) being pushed back from the terminal, the purser comes on the intercom and notifies us that, due to “safety and security reasons”, those of us from rows four through 19 are confined to use of the two bathrooms at the tail of the plane. The front one, due to “safety and security reasons” is limited to the people in that other class of service, ahem, First Class.

I can understand them wanting to keep the unwashed masses away from our betters, but do they have to bullshit us about it? I mean . . . give me a break. Safety and security? If I’m going to hijack a plane, I think I’m going to get me a first class seat. It’s much closer to the cockpit and folks up there are generally viewed with less suspicion than the rabble in the back.

The way they’re doing it, that’s one bathroom (up front) for approximately 8 people in the royalty section, and another two (at the tail) for the remaining 90 in the human cargo section. That makes the first class folks about five times better than the rest of us, yeah?