First Class!

On a recent trip I was upgraded to First Class. It was really quite bad. As much as I travel, it takes alot of junk to happen before I start to whine. This was bad enough.

First class is just flat awful on United!

- Flight attendants have the look of total apathy! They go through the motions, but absolutely no heart, they are slaves and they think smiling may only result in a beating.

- "Breakfast?"

"What are my choices?"

"Omelet." I look at her thinking as short as that answer was, that there must be more.

"We're out of the fruit plate." She says with the continuous scowl she'd worn the entire flight.

"Well, omelet then. Thanks." She gives no nod, no smile, just moves on to the next row.

"I'll have the fruit plate." The guy right behind me says. Not a word out of her as she writes it down.

- Hot towels are past out and I fold out my table from the arm rest. Something is not right as the table will not lay flat. I attempt different pushes and tugs but the best configuration I can get results in a flapping thing closely resembling a springboard. Each bump of the plane results in the floppy end doing the bouncy dance, smacking the center console.

- Food trays have been coming out for the last 10 minutes. The man to my right has gotten his and is half way through the meal. People behind me have their breakfast. I look around and realize that everyone has a tray and are well into them. The troll is even picking up empty trays from the people up front. I wait for her to come by me, and as I open my mouth to ask about my meal she sticks her hand out palm first and walks right on by. For several more minutes she picks up trays, fills coffee, and asks if people would like water. My tray flaps with emptiness.

She finally makes the mistake of looking me in the eye and I ask if there is a reason I don't have a meal. She looks down at my table as if she has never seen it! "Oh, I'm sorry.". She heads up front and brings me... Wait for it... A fruit plate.

- The man next to me is done. He hands his tray to Madge and asks for Black coffee and a water with no ice. When the tray was being picked up I leaned back from my breakfast minus only two bites. I'd only had it sitting in front of me for a little over a minute. He makes his request in a volume normally reserved for comments about 'the sermon.'. He, however, is on a jet liner. Bertha leans in, over my tray and says "What?". Same request, same volume. " Sir, I can't hear you, you'll have to speak up. Same request, same volume. I lick my fork, searching for flavor. She then just starts naming things off, "Tea?". "Water" he nods and whispers "...but with no ice.". "Coffee?". Another nod. "Black.". She's gone and I dive into my food.

Olga waddles down the aisle with coffee in one hand and water (filled with ice) in the other. We hit some mild air and she wavers like a bear riding a unicycle over a tight rope. I wish her ill, while I eat grapes one after the other, hoping for more! She attempts to steady herself by planting her ample hip against a grandmother in the second row. I'm thinking "weebles wobble and they DO fall down! The air smooths out and sadly she delivers both drinks while I lean back again. As she completes this and exits my space, her claws wrap around my tray! "I'm not done.". There is more that half of the food left and my fork is still in my hand, albeit turned around and held like a murder weapon. She releases the tray and moves on in her wordless daze.

- Blanch is back offering to fill whisper-mans coffee. He has headphones on and is lost in his book. The coffee pot hoovers over my lap at eye level while Bowling Pin attempts to stay upright. She assumes as I do that there is no way he can't notice her doing the 'flaming pot' lap dance a foot away. He can.

I imagine looking up at her and saying "You really are an awful flight attendant.". She replies "F#!* Off!"

Having gotten my dollars worth, I turn and a little too loudly say "Sir!" He looks up and mouths 'no thank you', as she tops off his mug.

- The plane is on final approach and whisper-man still has his unfinished coffee on his enviably stable table. Rags has walked by several times doing things like pressing people's head rests down and ensuring that bags "are completely under the seat in front of you.". Low talker looks concerned as Gretchen disappears for a long time up front. An attendant from the back of the plane bringing up paper work notices the items and with a pursed look at whisper-man retrieves them. The plane lands 3 minutes later.

I walk off thinking of ways to turn United into a curse word.