Flying used to be different. There weren’t the endless security checks, the need to remove your shoes and coat and jewelry, the long, long lines. The seats used to be bigger, the legroom used to be large enough for your legs, hell people could even smoke (this is one change that’s for the better). There used to be planes with two floors, and one would have a bar where you could stand around and drink like you were in a snazzy pick up lounge (this was even before my time). Often, the plane wouldn’t sell out and you could have two seats to yourself, where you could nap through your flight. Yeah, empty seats were common! Now you barely get one seat.
So, you can only imagine how out of my mind crazy pants I was when on not one, but both ways to and from San Francisco, I got a whole row to myself! It seemed remarkable enough that it happened on the way to California, but when I found myself in the same position on the way back, I practically felt the hand of God under me. What the what? This is an epic coincidence, and these days, it rates up there between unusual and uheard of. Even the flight attendants were shocked. I layed myself down and alternated between reading magazines and watching movies. Take that first class. It was lux, I tell you.
Gratitude for this bit of luck. It made the flights actually enjoyable and restful. I did not deplane an angry monster, but instead a somewhat pleasant human. I’m sure my family is the most grateful.