Sans class

After several rescheduled flights, Live Longer, Beaner and I were on our way. But first, a stop at the Sky Club. Wanting to fly in style, we stopped in for some morning pre-flight cocktails. We enjoyed them up to the very last minute then headed to our gate and quickly learned we were the last to board. We took our seats in the very back of the plane and anxiously awaited our arrival at the connecting flight Sky Club.

We arrived at the next airport and checked the departures for our next gate which turned out to be the gate at which we arrived. Things were working out so smoothly. With only a few minutes in between flights, we hustled off to the Sky Club for mid-flight drinks. We didn’t, however, hustle while in the club. The Sky Club is not for hustlers. Thus, as we were walking back to our gate we heard a final boarding call for our flight. We started to run and quickly realized running does not pair well with wine. I called out to a nearby gate agent, “Will you please call B38 and let them know we’re on our way?” She agreed to do so and once we passed her gate we started walking again. A few gates away from our destination gate Live Longer made a suggestion, “We should start running again so it looks like we made an effort.” Beaner and I both felt this was a good idea and put our stride into action.

Our effort paid off because the flight attendants kindly welcomed us aboard, gave Beaner two drink coupons in exchange for a last minute seat change, and then we convinced some passengers to move so that we could all sit together. “You two realize you’re sitting in the exact same seats, right?” Beaner asked us. “I thought it was weird that the magazine was opened to the last page I looked at,” Live Longer replied. Just then the flight attendant walked by, “You ladies drinking?” “Do you mean on the flight or are you asking if we have been?” I asked for clarification. “Both. These ladies are right up your alley,” she told the other flight attendant and minutes later returned with three full glasses of wine for us. We continued to enjoy complimentary beverages throughout the flight.

As we did so, we shared our story of rescheduled and nearly missed flights. “You are some of the happiest rescheduled passengers I’ve ever met,” one of the passengers told us. He was right. It’s hard not to be happy when, even though rescheduled, your drinks are comped over a twelve hour period. While others prefer to sit front row in first class, we prefer to be back row in coach, sans class, and get trashed.