On Airplanes and Economy Class
Let us take into consideration Airplanes and Economy Class. (Largely taken from the observations of one Brian Reagan).
After a long and tiring struggle, you find yourself stepping into the airplane. The first thing you notice is the smell of the de-oderants used to remove smell from airplanes. Without being able contemplate this paradox, you stagger down the aile and see seats.
Massive seats.
Luxurious seats.
Seats that would put a lazy-boy recliner to shame. And then you remember that these are reserved for your economic and social superiors.
The seats are occupied by the 1st class passengers who have elaborate laptops on the pull-down tables and are busily typing away and smiling smugly at you as if to say, “I’m making money right now!”. Those who aren’t making money spend their time glaring at you as you as if your presence offends them.
You finally make it to the dingy “Economy Class” area reserved for those who aren’t rich enough to afford humane conditions. A smiling stewardess comes up to you and tells you in a strained and cracked voice that you’re seat has been double-booked. You inquire as to whether you will receive a first class seat in compensation. She gasps in horror and shakes her head as if trying to empty it of the blasphemy you have just uttered. She tells you that you may have either a seat with a four-year old with an ear infection or an old man who has been coughing violently ever since he arrived on the plane. You decide to go with the four-year old who patiently tries to pour milk down your shirt the entire twelve-hour journey. In mid-flight a stewardess comes by with a gargantuan metal coffin on wheels that smashes any objects (including feet) that are in the aisle. After passing through the entire Economy Class she goes to serve the 1st Class passengers caviar and champagne. After what seems like an eternity, she rolls the steel sarcophagus back to you and asks you cheerily, “Sewage or bilge?”. (In reality she asks you, “Chicken or Pasta?” but I have translated it as truthfuly as I am able). You decide you aren’t hungry and decide to use the bathroom. You walk up to the bathroom only to be stopped by one of the more muscular stewardesses who informs you that this is the 1st Class bathroom, reserved specialy for the almighty gods who reside in eternal bliss beyond the curtain. (A curtain is drawn across the aisle for the sake of the 1st Class, who don’t like even looking at the Economy Class passengers). You ask where the mortal’s bathroom is and she hands you a super-powered telescope to see the end of the fuselage. You go back to your seat and gather the supplies you will need for the journey- water, food, a compass, and a group of native guides. You would also take a pencil but airport security confinscated it becuase of its potential as a weapon. You find, as you make your way to the sacred bathroom that you are not alone in your quest. Several other bands are also headed for the bathroom. The journey becomes a race, and then the race becomes a bloody brawl when all the groups collide at the destination. After an awful melee, you make it into the bathroom. (The primary difference bathrooms of the Economy Class and the 1st Class is that the Economy bathrooms make telephone booths looke roomy while 1st Class bathrooms have UN representitives). Just as you collapse on the toleit the captain’s freindly and obnoxious voice rings over the deafening PA telling the passengers that turbulence is ahead and that they are required to return to their seats.
While airplanes may be the safest way to travel, there has been an amazing spike of suicides since their creation.
Truth of the Day: George Washington Carver was not the man who cut up George Wahsington. (That was Thomas Jefferson)
