(Posted at 35,000 feet on an airplane! Whee!)

The movie “Fight Club” features a concept of the “Single Serving Friend.” On an airplane everything comes in Single Servings. Alcohol comes in little bottles; chips come in small bags; even the cutlery if you’re in first class is small.

Thanks to having a lot of miles of late (Two Cupertino trips Plus a first class trip to Seattle) I was able to upgrade my business trip back to Cupertino this week for miles alone. Traveling in First Class has its pluses and minuses. First class now a days means traveling with the 2nd .5%. And then the top 10% of the 99%. The top 10 of the 99% are cool. They know how much work and effort, it takes to get those upgrades. But the 2nd .5%… they are the scary ones.

These are the obviously wealthy, but not ludicrously wealthy. There is a gaudiness to the Swagger, Suit, Jewelry or attitude. Waiting on line to board I got to see one of these folk in action. In the city I often play a game I call “B or B” which stands for “Bluetooth or Bonkers.” Is the person talking to themselves or on a Bluetooth headset. The woman who wandered up to where we were queuing was not merely on a Bluetooth headset, but ranting at some poor invisible person like she was Bonkers. She was yelling to the person how even if she didn’t make her connection they would get her another plane. That there was no way she was missing this flight and there was no argument on this.

As she bickered with the luggage size limitation sign (as that’s where her eyes focused as she argued) she began inching closer to the front of the line. I was queued 3rd behind a very nice couple. I had my suit coat over one arm, I have a very nice red button down business shirt, and was waring my work back pack carrying my techno-stuff. When they called pre-boarding for small children and people needing assistance, she started to move forward and then seemed greatly put off that others were being boarded before her.

They then called first class and she moved in. “That’s alright we’re just queued here already,” I said in my standard Airport British Accent. When I don’t want to deal with people after they’ve been an ass in public, I put on a British accent. It really doesn’t accomplish anything; I think it’s merely a security blanket. Nonetheless, ignoring me and the nice couple she pushed in. Unfortunately, my backpack was there and she walked directly into it. She let out an unpleased oof, mixed with a sound that can only be described as the threat of an unwanted mastectomy. I of course as politely as possible turned about and said, “Oh dear, are you okay.” She was very angry. This was stunning as I actually hadn’t tried to get in her way, she just felt the need to be past me whether I was there or not.

As I looked down at her boarding pass I muttered, “Oh crap.” The nice couple said, “It wasn’t your fault. I wouldn’t worry about it.” I remarked, “No, I just saw her boarding pass, she’s sitting next to me for the next 4 hours..” “You’re the stronger person, I think you’ll survive.” (Mentally, I had an image of a Disco Ball crashing on the person’s head)

I got onto the plane and stood at my aisle seat. The woman looked at me and I said, “It looks like we’ll be sitting together then.” With a bit of venom she responded, “Well, obviously we’ve already gotten to know each other.”

Since then; not a word has passed between us. This is not surprising.

(You know, you really can’t write this stuff without living it.)

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