Okay, new life goal: become fabulously wealthy and never fly coach ever again!
I'm back on the road for the holidays, and thanks to a nearly empty business class on my reserved flight from Bangkok to Dubai, I got the best upgrade I've ever had in my life for a song! Happy birthday month to me!
Seriously, I'm ruined for air travel now. How can you expect me to go back to the riff-raff now that I know what goes on upstairs?? A welcome aboard glass of champagne. A three-course meal with a tablecloth and real cutlery. Red wine. More champagne. My own personal minibar with water and mixers. More champagne. A lie-flat seat long enough to fit my 5'10" frame and then some (we're not in Thailand anymore, Toto) Someone even came by and offered me a mattress! Did I mention the bar/lounge area near the bathrooms? Emirates, you've created a monster!
Don't get me wrong, I've seen the photos and heard the stories of how the ther half lives. (I've even flown on private planes before, which is a whole other ballgame.) I knew all of these things existed, but until you actually experience it, you have no idea just how much of a massive difference it makes. I still had to suppress panic attacks anytime we hit even a little bit of turbulence, but at least I had the luxury of doing so in the privacy of my own little cubicle.
And now I'm in Dubai, a city that feels like Beverly Hills on steroids, where every building looks just fancy enough that I probably can't afford to even step inside. Nonetheless, my celebrity treatment continues. I got fast-tracked through immigration, and I was upgraded again at my hotel to a room with a direct view of the Burj Khalifa by a woman at reception who fawned over me like I was Kim Kardashian, for no other reason than the computers were down when I arrived and I had to wait 10 whole minutes in their comfortable and stylish lounge before checking in. The horror!
Joke as I might about not being able to go back to the riff-raff, the last 24 hours have been the kind of whirlwind of luxury service that always leaves me a little bit squirmy when I happen to stumble into it. I'm a big proponent of equality when it comes to dealing with people in general. I am inherently uncomfortable with being treated as though I were "less-than" or "greater-than" someone else. Whether you're rich or poor, world-famous or completely unknown, we're all human beings at the end of the day; subject to the same basic wants and needs, and equally at the mercy of our own mortality. I try my best to recognize that in everyone I meet, no matter who they are, and to treat everyone with the same level of basic kindness and respect. Particularly with the aforementioned hotel receptionist, who is clearly a rock-star at her job, my own aversion to being waited on left me almost feeling guilty every time I declined to accept one of her helpful offers: Can I get you a drink from the bar? Dear God, no more booze! Would you like a bottled water? Well, I have one here, but since you brought it over, okay. You can leave your bag there, you don't have to carry it. It's a 10lb backpack... I think I can manage. It's just as well I'm not famous. I'm much more comfortable blending in with the "regular" folks.
Anyway, I'm beyond thankful for the extra privacy, the lie-flat seat, and the complimentary food and drinks that my time in business class afforded me. They will be sorely missed on the next (and longest) leg of my journey, and if I ever get the opportunity to (affordably) join the ranks of the business class again, you bet your ass I'm going to take it. For now, I'm off to do some shopping... cuz, you know, that's kind of my life now. Later, peasants! 😉
I'm back on the road for the holidays, and thanks to a nearly empty business class on my reserved flight from Bangkok to Dubai, I got the best upgrade I've ever had in my life for a song! Happy birthday month to me!
Seriously, I'm ruined for air travel now. How can you expect me to go back to the riff-raff now that I know what goes on upstairs?? A welcome aboard glass of champagne. A three-course meal with a tablecloth and real cutlery. Red wine. More champagne. My own personal minibar with water and mixers. More champagne. A lie-flat seat long enough to fit my 5'10" frame and then some (we're not in Thailand anymore, Toto) Someone even came by and offered me a mattress! Did I mention the bar/lounge area near the bathrooms? Emirates, you've created a monster!
Don't get me wrong, I've seen the photos and heard the stories of how the ther half lives. (I've even flown on private planes before, which is a whole other ballgame.) I knew all of these things existed, but until you actually experience it, you have no idea just how much of a massive difference it makes. I still had to suppress panic attacks anytime we hit even a little bit of turbulence, but at least I had the luxury of doing so in the privacy of my own little cubicle.
And now I'm in Dubai, a city that feels like Beverly Hills on steroids, where every building looks just fancy enough that I probably can't afford to even step inside. Nonetheless, my celebrity treatment continues. I got fast-tracked through immigration, and I was upgraded again at my hotel to a room with a direct view of the Burj Khalifa by a woman at reception who fawned over me like I was Kim Kardashian, for no other reason than the computers were down when I arrived and I had to wait 10 whole minutes in their comfortable and stylish lounge before checking in. The horror!
Joke as I might about not being able to go back to the riff-raff, the last 24 hours have been the kind of whirlwind of luxury service that always leaves me a little bit squirmy when I happen to stumble into it. I'm a big proponent of equality when it comes to dealing with people in general. I am inherently uncomfortable with being treated as though I were "less-than" or "greater-than" someone else. Whether you're rich or poor, world-famous or completely unknown, we're all human beings at the end of the day; subject to the same basic wants and needs, and equally at the mercy of our own mortality. I try my best to recognize that in everyone I meet, no matter who they are, and to treat everyone with the same level of basic kindness and respect. Particularly with the aforementioned hotel receptionist, who is clearly a rock-star at her job, my own aversion to being waited on left me almost feeling guilty every time I declined to accept one of her helpful offers: Can I get you a drink from the bar? Dear God, no more booze! Would you like a bottled water? Well, I have one here, but since you brought it over, okay. You can leave your bag there, you don't have to carry it. It's a 10lb backpack... I think I can manage. It's just as well I'm not famous. I'm much more comfortable blending in with the "regular" folks.
Anyway, I'm beyond thankful for the extra privacy, the lie-flat seat, and the complimentary food and drinks that my time in business class afforded me. They will be sorely missed on the next (and longest) leg of my journey, and if I ever get the opportunity to (affordably) join the ranks of the business class again, you bet your ass I'm going to take it. For now, I'm off to do some shopping... cuz, you know, that's kind of my life now. Later, peasants! 😉
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