When my husband called me with my flight reservation information, he said he had good news and bad news. He asked me which I wanted first.
When someone asks you that question, how do you respond?
I always choose to have the bad news first. My thinking is that hearing the good news last will make you less likely to have a bad taste in your mouth after the conversation is over. Maybe that is just a glass half-full mentality rather than a glass half-empty mentality.
The bad news: we had to cash in 50,000 frequent flyer miles rather than 25,000 since they didn't have any available seats open for people redeeming their bonus miles.
The good news: I had the option of a seat in first-class or coach.
We flew first-class from Mexico for our honeymoon several years ago. We had tried to fly out first-class but they overbooked and had to change our reservation after telling us we could upgrade. Coming home, I was expecting this extravagant experience. All we got that was different from coach was free alcohol and more leg room. That was it. I couldn't justify the extra money we spent. That was my first and last time flying first-class. I have always been completely content with coach. I am not a picky person.
I was pretty nonchalant about the "good news".
The day I flew out to CA in style, I certainly wasn't complaining especially after a glass or two of wine.
First-class comes repleat with entertainment. There had been two guys who were chatting up the flight attendant who was regaling them with stories about men who are touchy (complete with gestures). This was after one of them touched her arm to ask her a question and I heard her say loudly, "don't touch me". I thought she was going to haul back and slug the man. That wasn't the case apparently since they were laughing uproarously within minutes. They bonded over the five or so beers the one man had. (I should note that I'm not judging. I thought they were entertaining in all honesty. I was pretty hard up for something to do since my ipod and the book I had taken just weren't cutting it.)
Normally, when I fly I am seated next to a "Chatty Cathy". Not this time. It was as though everyone had an invisible wall erected around them courtesy of their USA Todays and laptops (and designer duds). The man next to me was busy scribbling in his notebook at a frantic pace. I was inclined to pull out my little black book and started jotting down ideas for a guest post I was working on.
I will admit though that I was rather thankful for my pasta and white chocolate and macadamia nut cookie (and the wine) in first-class when I saw one of the flight attendants taking a $3 container of ramen noodles to the back of the plane. Those ramen noodles brought back memories of my college days when we lived on bagels, ramen noodles, and pizza.
Would I fly first-class again? Probably not. Not unless it was "good news" again courtesy of our airline bonus miles.
This week I promise to have more about my trip out west and the fun adventure I had with my husband.