I'll probably regret this...

I'm about to take a flight to Belize in May. I despise flying a great deal, but sadly this is a required evil if I am to enjoy the sunny beaches of Caye Caulker. I've not spent much time in any area that has tropical weather patterns, aside from Australia, but I was in Melbourne. Melbourne is a coastal city, and a delightful one at that. Flying over to Australia took me far longer than I would have liked, sadly it's very far away from the USA, so I can't really complain. On the other hand, whenever I fly I vomit either before, or after I fly. I guess it's my body telling me that it dislikes the changes in elevation, cabin pressure, shitty food, or coach class seating.

I've always been remiss in my dislike for class based seating. What I mean to say is, I've found that the constant referral to class distinction in airline seating creates a void between patrons and lights the snickering fires of resentment. We all know that First Class is a shitty way of saying "This guy spent $1200 more than you on his ticket", but is the cost really so much more when you think about it? When I flew to Melbourne in 2004, my seat was overbooked, so they upgraded me to First Class. That section on a British Airways flight is the lap of luxury I assure you. You essentially have a private booth with a recliner and a privacy screen. If I remember correctly I also had my own TV screen that was vastly larger than the ones in Coach, which BA lovingly refers to as "World Traveler".

My overall experience was a pleasant one I must say. The flight attendant was much more polite than those in Coach. The food was better, and I got as much free booze as I could ever want. It's apparent to me why you would spend more money on a ticket, especially with the amount of added amenities afforded you. Although, the bitter return to coach on my connecting flight was much more painful after experiencing what the airline had to offer as far as premium services are concerned. Cramped seating, crap food, fuzzy TV picture, it was almost too much for my now heightened sense of taste and pedigree. Although I immediately felt as if I was "slumming it" I quickly resigned myself to accept the fact that I hadn't paid for my jaunt in the rich bastards section. Anyway, I hate flying.