Business Class, Bitches

Ever since I was little, I wanted to fly business. As I got older I dreamed of days when I would be financially stable enough to even be able to afford a business class ticket anywhere. Who would have thought at least the first part would come true at the tender age of 23? Or am I 24 now? Birthdays are hard.

As you may have heard in a previous post, I am being sent to Frankfurt for training with Lufthansa. I have to say, the best part about flying out of where I work is simply being able to text a picture of my passport to a coworker and being checked into the flight within five minutes.

It was especially worth it to tell John about this and have him mumble under his breath how much he hated me. So sweet.

I bought this passport cover just for this trip.

I came to the airport that day already running on low sleep from the night before. I checked in, dropped off bags, and headed to the lounge. I think that technically staff aren't supposed to use the lounge, but the ladies who run the desk there didn't say anything, so I went anyway.

Let me be the first to say there's nothing terribly exciting about the lounge. It does, however, offer a certain level of general relaxation. Being able to munch of crackers and sip on a glass of water isn't a lot, but it's a very nice way to spend an hour before the flight

As any good daughter should, I called y parents to check in and chat before I left the country. We chatted about this and that, but mostly how excited I was to go back to Germany. I boarded the plane in the first wave of people and was settled down when a very nice flight attendant came by with champagne.

I had honestly thought this was a myth. You have to be kidding me, right? First and business class get to sit around and drink champagne while the peasants all filed on board? Well apparently it's true. And I felt like royalty.

I sat and I stretched and my puny excuses for legs couldn't even teach the damn foot rest. And guess what's? There's not even a way to bring the seat closer. I could lie it out flat. I'd reach it then, but there's not way to just like...scoot up.

A very nice British gentleman sat next to me. I said hi. He must have noticed my alight awkwardness of not knowing a anything about business class because he spent the next 20 minutes or so very obviously going through everything in a way that was slightly too obvious and dramatic to be normal. Thank you random British man, for showing me where the table was...and the amenities kit...and where to put your shoes...and where the remote was kept. I guess the important part was that I got through it without any major slip ups or looking too stupid.

The flight itself wasn't too eventful. The seats are hard and uncomfortable. The meals are heated unevenly. I couldn't see anything out my window except darkness and maybe water. So maybe business class isn't all it's cracked up to be. Or maybe I was just tired and cranky from getting so little sleep the night before. Who knows.

I think the best part was the fact I got to watch Jurassic World. You go Chris Pratt.