More Champagne Sir? And Other Rhetorical Questions; My Adventure Flying First Class on Richard Branson’s Dreamliner

Last year a couple college buddies and I decided to start the tradition of having a mini reunion in San Diego to watch Football, eat our body weight in burritos and have beer replace water as the most prevalent substance in our bodies.

When it came to picking which airline to fly, I chose Virgin America. I hardly ever fly domestic but I knew that Virgin was owned by the cool and eccentric Ballin British Billionaire Sir Richard Branson. That’s right, Sir. Dudes a frickin knight who throws out first pitches at baseball games and makes cameos on the Simpsons. When’s the last time the CEO of Southwest did anything besides apologize for delayed flights?

Yo Richard if you ever want pitching tips let me know, I played 2 years of little league when I was 8.

I was about to press “purchase” on my flight ticket when a little box popped up and said “would you like to upgrade to First Class for $____” I paused, and the impulsive 5 year old child part of my brain said “Why not ??? You had a rough month and you have some spending money left over, plus there is no way you can afford anything but economy class for a flight longer than 2 hours”. Before the mature then-22-year-old adult part of my brain could offer a rebuttal about putting aside money to invest, save, or maybe buy mom a new blender, I got my email confirmation for the First Class flight I had just booked.

 

Me falling for Marketing 101 methods hook line and sinker. Well played Richard, well played.

 

The following is what transpired between arriving at SFO and arriving in San Diego

Arriving at SFO having already checked-in I walked straight to security. Since it was a Friday evening, the line was packed and never ending, like the line at Ben and Jerry’s on Free Scoop Day, but this Ben and Jerry’s only has one employee working both the scoop station and the cash register and said employee has suddenly decided to take their lunch break. Luckily for me however, my shiny ticket with the word “FIRST” on it meant I got my own line for TSA which was pretty much empty. I made the mistake of not looking straight ahead while walking towards the scanners; the looks I got from the people in the economy line were as if I had insulted all of their mothers.

 

Just your average line for security on a Friday

 

Sidebar real quick: does anyone else think that TSA agents are trained to not show any emotions besides dissatisfaction, annoyance, contempt, disdain and disgruntlement?  I have always tried to make my TSA agent smile but so far to no avail. That doesn’t mean I was going to stop trying though.

As I exited the scanner I was told by my TSA agent (a balding middle-aged Asian man who looked like he’d woken up on the wrong side of bed every day the past week) that I had been “randomly” selected for further screening. After copious pat-downs, metal detector sweeps etc, he pulled out a small sheet of paper like material, rubbed it on my fingers and asked in a perfect monotone “have you recently been in contact with any chemicals or hazardous materials?” Seeing my chance to make him smile I made eye contact and replied loud and clear, “Does Taco Bell count?”

Silence.

He just stared at me, dumbfounded, deer in headlights. I could tell his TSA trained brain was fighting furiously to stick to protocol and not react to clearly what had been a hilarious joke. As this titanic struggle waged within in him I realized I probably should have answered him seriously when it came to testing my fingers for what I assumed was explosive residue or bomb making material seeing as I was a brown guy with a beard and this after all, was the TSA.

That face when you realize you really did not think that through.

After what seemed like an eternity during which I was half expecting to be escorted to a windowless room for interrogation, he cracked a half smile/grimace and told me I was free to go. I counted that as a success in my book.

Unfortunately, upon arriving at the gate it was announced that my flight was delayed by an hour, which then became an hour and a half and then 2 hours. This meant that when it was finally time to board (again I got to go first since you know, First Class and all) the other passengers were quite grumpy and irritated. More on this later.

The first class section only had 8 seats, and man were they posh. They reclined almost fully into beds, had a massage feature and were plush, soft and supremely comfortable. There were 5 more passengers in the section, the guy next to me who we will refer to as “Douche McDoucheFace”, two businessmen across the aisle and a young couple sitting in the row behind me. I sat in my seat and a few minutes later, McDoucheFace took his seat next to me. He had his headphones over his ears and was watching something on his phone with a blank soul-less expression on his face. I tried to make eye contact and smile/say hi but he blatantly ignored me and just kept watching his show, thus earning the nickname”Douche McDoucheFace”. Apparently interacting with other passengers is only done in economy class.

I then decided to shift my attention back to my seat and was exploring the different massage settings when the flight attendant who was assigned to first class handed me a bag of salted caramel popcorn, a chocolate bar and asked me “would you like some champagne”? I looked at her trying to think of the best way to YES without sounding too eager like it was my first time being asked this, while at the same time without sounding rude. My voice decided to crack when I said “yes please” so lord knows what impression she got. Before she could ask McDoucheFace what he wanted to drink he asked for RedWine2Straws1NapkinPrertzels, all in one breathe without looking up from his phone. Apparently being respectful is only required if you fly economy class.

Yes I will take ALL the champagne please.

By now the other passengers were starting to board the plane and here is where the fact that the flight was delayed comes into play. In my ultimate wisdom I had picked seat 1-A, the very first seat on the plane. This meant that the roughly 100 people who thought they would be in San Diego by now and who had probably not eaten dinner or worse missed a connecting flight, board their plane and the FIRST thing they see is me laying flat on my ass watching TV and sipping champagne while eating popcorn and chocolate. I doubt I have ever felt more guilty in my life as I hastily yet casually tried to hide the chocolate and popcorn under my blanket as flustered looking parents carrying toddlers gave me the stink eye as they passed. In an effort to look inconspicuous I chugged my champagne and hid the glass under my seat as one passenger muttered “looks like the trust fund is paying off” right as he passed me. I accidentally made eye contact with the flight attendant which she took to mean “more champagne please” so the next thing I knew there was a full glass in my hand.

Inconspicuously melting into my seat

Thankfully boarding was over quickly and we were on our way. The flight was supposed to be around 1 hour and 15 minutes, but the captain put on the afterburners and went full throttle, like a man whose Viagra has kicked in half an hour too early on the drive home from work, causing the flight duration to change to 50 minutes. For the rest of the passengers in the first class cabin I guess this meant they had 25 less minutes to indulge in free liquor because the flight attendant spent the whole flight pouring countless Vodka Cranberries for the 2 businessmen, providing champagne bottle service to the couple behind me whose giggles got louder and louder with each glass, and endless glasses of red wine to McDouche who proceeded to get redder and redder till his face matched his wine. The whole time he never broke his gaze from his phone.

I nestled into my seat, set the massage intensity to medium and before I knew it we had landed in San Diego where being in seat 1-A actually came in handy because I was the first off the plane. In retrospect, it’s probably a good thing the piloted floored it to San Diego because for as comfortable as I was in my seat, for some reason I  REALLY wanted to get off the plane.

Looking back I realized that all of the guilt that I had gone through was due to the fact that I was being overly sensitive to what was going on around me, rather than just focusing on enjoying myself and the experience. Maybe I felt bad that my trip had gone smoother than the majority of everyone else’s, but then again that’s what I was paying for. The service was great, the attendants were polite, attentive, accommodating and understanding given the delays, I couldn’t have asked for a more comfortable seat and there was unlimited free alcohol. It was definitely worth the extra money I paid.

In a few months my friends and I will be reconvening for our second trip to San Diego and this time I will be prepared to actually enjoy the perks of First Class travel, all 50 glorious minutes of it.

 

Walking through security in 3 months like…..

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I went to Europe. Here is something I wrote about it.

About 9 months ago while sitting in a Thai restaurant in Fremont,California my friend, who for the sake of this piece we will refer to as Cheetah, leaned over to me and asked “Bro, wanna go to Europe?” In my typical fashion, I didn’t hesitate to say “Yes of course.” Before I knew it I was on a flight to Amsterdam.

What followed was a crazy and unforgettable 16 day romp across 7 countries and 9 cities with 1 Sexy Cheetah, 26 strangers including a Hairy Italian from New York, a Lawyer with the Physique of an Underwear Model, a Puerto Rican Heartbreaker, and to cap it off, the BEST tour guide you could ask for.

Amsterdam AKA: 2 Truths And A Lie… I’m High, I’m Not High, I Used To Play Baseball

 The moment you land in a country and realize EVERYTHING is legal.

 

I probably have PTSD from hearing bicycle bells and diving for cover as a tall Dutch man or women whizzed past on their bike looking politely frustrated at the group of Americans blocking their path. Jokes aside though the best part about Amsterdam was the vibe, everyone seemed laid back, happy and positive. Getting lost while roaming around the canals, not worrying about directions and just going places on a whim became the norm. The atmosphere just made you smile and forget some of the less pleasant things going on in the world. I have a hunch it may have to do with the fact that weed, shrooms and basically everything else is legal but who am I to say.

Frankfurt and Munich AKA: See the Below GIF

NEIN NEIN NIEN NEIN NEIN were the last words uttered from our lips before Cheetah, the Italian from New York and I were almost permanently banned from setting foot in Germany ever again. Before almost getting the boot however, we visited Frankfurt and Munich. We weren’t in Frankfurt for long but getting a view of the city as the sun was setting from 55 floors up was definitely a once in a lifetime experience. I want to visit it again at same point to explore more. Munich was a much older city with beer gardens such as the famous hofbrauhaus full of beer beer beer and a little more beer which was all delicious and tasted leaps and bounds better than anything I have tried stateside. Other highlights included the Olympic Park which was the site of the 1972 Olympic games, a clock tower in the center of Old Munich which gave a panoramic view of the city and the BMW museum where we tried but were unsuccessful in sneaking past security into the new Rolls Royce.

Innsbruck, Austria: AKA The Best Pizza I had in Europe 

We sadly only had a few hours in Austria but the city of Innsbruck seemed like its own little society that was separate from the rest of the world. It felt as if living there was like living in a little bubble and nothing that happened outside the borders of the city affected everyday life. Cheetah and I climbed up a hill as high as we could go to get a view of the city (the things we do for the Gram) and almost died when Cheetah thought it would be a good idea to climb on top of someone’s shed and then stand on my shoulders on top of said shed to take a picture. Surprising fact about Austria, they made the best pizza I had on the whole trip!

Venice and Verona AKA: No We Can’t Uber To The Club, It’s On An Island. 

Italy was hands down my favorite country of the whole trip. Going to Italy is like stepping into a time machine and being transported back to the 15th century while enjoying all the comforts of the 21st century. The architecture, the language, the vistas and countryside all have this rustic flair you have to experience to  understand. From wine-tasting at a local vineyard to inhaling pounds of Gelato and fresh pasta, the food in Italy was another major highlight. An unexpected side of Venice that we discovered was that it has a cracking nightlife and party scene. Everyone assumes that you go to Venice to see the cathedrals, ride the gondolas and soak up the culture, but nestled deep inside the city are some inconspicuous but really fun clubs that are definitely worth a visit.

Assassin’s Creed may not have gotten a lot right, but it did nail the way to get through a crowd in Italy. Don’t stop walking, gently push and keep repeating the word Scusi.

Lucerne Region, Switzerland AKA: The Only Country Where You CAN Be Too Poor To Use The Bathroom.

Ahhh Switzerland. If ever there was a country that was the manifestation of a “perfect and pristine” society, Switzerland would be the winner by a mile. Honestly the word perfect is the best way to describe it. In the cities there was no trash, pollution, nothing out of place. In the countryside, even the grass looked like each blade was cut by a laser, tested for precision with a slide rule and all dyed the same color, while laying on it felt like laying on a bed of feathers. I honestly did not want to leave Switzerland, sitting at the hotel patio at the foot of the Alps and sipping beer with my friends while cracking jokes and talking about life was truly bliss. If time was to stop at that moment and I could sit there forever I probably would. It’s no wonder Switzerland always stays neutral and never goes to war.

To get a sense of the beauty, take a look at the picture below.

View from our Hotel in Engelberg. Shot on iPhone nah fuck that Galaxy S6

However, all of this pristine breathtaking perfection comes with a price; you legitimately cannot be poor and live in this country. Let me break it down for you in simple terms by telling you the price of some basic items. Please note that the value of the Swiss Frank is basically the same as a US dollar.

• Slice of cheese pizza: 9 Swiss Franks
• Tomato and cucumber sandwich: 8 Swiss Franks
• Bottle of water, not the fortified with 111 vitamins stuff, simple water: 5 Swiss Franks
• Bottle of Coke: 6 Swiss Franks
• Wristwatch: 15,000 Swiss Franks and your first born child

But the real icing on the cake was the price to use a public restroom…. 2 swiss franks and no they don’t have change for bill currency, you can only use coins. If you are going to charge me 2 bucks to go to the bathroom, I better walk out of there immune to hepatitis and with a free credit score check or something.

Accurate re-enactment of what happened when I needed Cheetah to spot me to use the bathroom.

Paris AKA: Our Hotel Bathroom Will Never Be The Same Again

There is nothing quite like seeing the Eiffel Tower with your own eyes for the first time, you really need to stop and stare at it for a second to soak it all in. It is, in my opinion, one of the modern wonders of the world. Going up the tower and looking out over the vast city as far as the eye can see is something I don’t think I will ever forget. Paris holds a special place in my heart since my Mom lived there in her 20’s so being able to go and visit in my 20’s felt like I was following in her footsteps in a way. She told me that in her days there, she would sit at cafes along the banks of the River Seine and sip Vin Chaud (Mulled Wine) and study, so I made sure to repeat that minus the studying part and probably with A LOT more wine than she had.

I don’t know how my Mom ever left with sights like these

One thing that stood out to me the most was the constant feeling of stress and tenseness that you could sense from its inhabitants. This was understandable given recent tragic events that had taken place in France but it was more palpable than I expected. All of that aside however Paris was a beautiful city bursting at the seams with culture and history. I got to see the Mona Lisa, the Notre Dam, take a cruise along the Seine, attend a Moulin Rouge-esque show and even catch up with an old highschool friend over the best damn falafel sandwich in the world. Once the sun set we sampled the nightlife which was on a whole other level, something in the air must really bring out the wild side of people. It’s another thing about Paris you need to experience to understand. I left Paris feeling as if I had barely scratched the surface but I know I will be back.

London AKA: Chris, We Can Do This The Hard Way Or The Easy Way, Either Way, It Is Happening. 

Finally and last but certainly not least, we arrived in London. I have always had this weird fascination/love for London and the UK in general. My unhealthy obsession with British Top Gear probably doesn’t help, but it is a city I have always wanted to visit and desire most to live in. Being in London even for the roughly 36 hours we had in the city further reinforced this desire. The weather was quintessentially British, rainy and cloudy with patches of sun followed by more rain, but the whole place just felt vibrant and steeped in history even among the skyscrapers and modern buildings. I think the juxtaposition of Big Ben next to the London Eye is a prime example of the old and the new existing side by side.

London nightlife was the best by far, maybe it was the end of the trip and everyone was in a mood to party and celebrate for a final time, but it was one of those nights you never want to end. Piccadilly Circus where most of the clubs were was teeming with people all out to have a good time even as late as 4am when the clubs finally closed.

Pretty Much Sums Up The Night

 

Aside from visiting the usual tourist attractions, the highlight of London was getting to go to a Premier League Football (Soccer) match, Tottenham Hotspurs vs Crystal Palace. The whole district of Tottenham came out to watch the game, the streets were deserted the shops were empty and the stadium was packed. I don’t think I have ever heard more Fuck You’s and witnessed fans emotions flow from hate to love and back faster than they did during the match. One second the crowd would be cheering the forward streaking down the pitch, the next they would be demanding he be traded and questioning his manhood. The ambiance and energy in the stadium was electric and there was an excited fervor that would ripple through the stadium every time the ball crossed midfield. I’m not even a fan of Tottenham but I found myself getting really into the game. When Tottenham scored the winning goal in the 80th minute, the stadium literally erupted and the stranger next to me gave me a bear hug and we both chanted “Come On You Spurs” with the rest of the crowd.

Great Shot Of The Back Of That Middle Aged Man’s Head

 

That night, while packing for the return flight home, it really felt like I had been gone for months, but at the same time, part of me wished deep down that I was packing for the next leg of the journey. I know I will be back to Europe in the years to come, this trip was just a sampling, a taste of what lies ahead.

Europe was in a word….amazing, but then again how could it not be?

It’s Europe.