If I ran an airline, all early morning flights would serve complimentary Gatorade. Virgin America could pioneer this.
Straight up, grey sweatpants to travel. Dude, unless you have a medical excuse or are going directly from the airport to a pick-up basketball game, this is a major fashion and life don't. Have a little pride, man.
I don't have a problem sitting next to kids on a flight, as long as you're not the nose picker. Shudder.
If you are ever traveling with me and I'm passed out asleep, head lolling, snoring, you have every right to jostle or nudge me into a different position.
Seen the movie Soul Plane? Me either, but I'm here to tell you about the Ho Plane. It could also be called the Ho & Stripper Plane, but for brevity's sake I call it the former. This is the Burbank-Vegas flight- on a Thursday or Friday afternoon it is chockablock with buxom women in Uggs and velvet jogging suits on their way to Sin City for the weekend to ply their trade as exotic dancers or escorts or perhaps both. On a Sunday, it's the Vegas-Burbank flight, full of slender, tired looking women still wearing last night's make-up. Think of it as a slatternly commute, and it's a phenomenon that fascinates me. Dying to ask one of them how much they make on average, and if they have other jobs during the week. Maybe one day I'll work up the courage, for now I'm content to observe and soak up the Vanillaroma aroma of sex and commerce, from a safe distance.
Ps - I know you want photographic evidence, until I get a proper spy cam (reason #783 to do so), you'll have to make do with the blurry snaps I tried to get on my phone and not get my ass kicked. You'll have to use your imagination to picture the chunky, balding Asian guy wearing an (ironic?) GTL t shirt (Gym-Tan-Laundry)
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