The Psychologist, The Redneck, The Hippie, and The Cult Leader: Lessons in First Class Etiquette

Sounds like the beginning of a good joke? Right? If only it were a joke! These were my traveling cohorts for my flight to Tampa.

There is certain a code one must abide by when traveling First Class. As often as I fly and at the odd times when I fly I typically get “bumped up” to First Class so I have become a master of First Class Etiquette. If you happen to fly in what I like to call the Holy of Holies of air transportation (notice that little curtain which separates the Gentiles from The Chosen) follow these guidelines and you won’t err.

1) Act like you never fly anything else.

I walk up to the mass of people huddling around the check in carpet and strike up small talk (“This flight is always late”, “Are you coming or going”, etc.) with the other people waiting to board first. This is where I meet the Psychologist and the Cult Leader. The Psychologist says he is heading home and The Cult Leader proclaims she is headed cross country to her other house. The Cult Leader is standing nearest the entry way (she wanted it known that she was OBVIOUSLY first in line). This elderly couple walks up (well he walked, she rolled) to prepare for early boarding. Regardless if you fly first or not, you will not board first. The people with special needs will be boarding first. At this point the Cult Leader proclaims that she has something better than a wheel chair. She has a First class ticket! If you have a first class ticket there is no need to announce it. People see you get on the plane. They know! This rule also applies to in flight. Don’t make statements like “Wow I have my own phone and T.V. and don’t order a bunch of drinks just because they are complimentary.

2) Don’t tell people your life story. If we wanted a biography we’d buy one in the airport book store (of course we’d pay twice the normal going rate, but that’s another story)

The Hippie and the Redneck were in gross violation of this rule. We are standing in the mass of pre-boarding people and the Redneck walks up and casually says he is a “Yankee” Louisianan because he is from north Louisiana. Now granted he was talking to other people from Louisiana, but the rest of us don’t care. At this point we are about to board and a gentleman who had been waiting to the side walks over and leans up against the divider. The Cult Leader informs him that she is in fact “First in line” and she will “bowl him over” if he thinks he’s cutting (See Rule 3). I think to myself, “Dear Lord this is going to be a LONG flight! I hope I am not sitting next to any of them!” My luck held true. I end up sitting next to the Psychologist, who turned out to be a nice guy. He casually asked The Hippie about his flight arrangements. The Hippie was much more grandiose about his story. He talked about how he was coming back from Bangkok and how much trouble there was to be found in Bangkok. The poor Psychologist looks at me and talks about not being able to listen to his music because the hippie won’t stop talking.

3) Act Civil: Remember you are sitting in First Class. You are better than the plebs in the bourgeois (after all you probably didn’t pay for the seat but got upgraded).

I realized that the Cult Leader was a cult leader when she asked the Psychologist if he needed a dictionary to figure out any of the words in the book he was reading. He of course politely declined (I believe he was reading a Tom Clancy Novel or something to that effect). The Cult Leader then whips a full size dictionary out of her bag of magic potions. My first thought is “Who the hell makes room for a full on Webster’s dictionary”, but I digress. The Cult Leader then explains that she is reading a book about the mind. The Psychologist makes another grievous error asking the Cult Leader if it is Psychology or Neurology. The Cult Leader says neither but in fact she is reading about the “truth”. She then hands the book across the aisle to the Psychologist and he asks her if she is into Scientology. She affirms that she is and that the book is about modern medicines errors of Electro-shock therapy. The Psychologist hands it back to her and says he prefers fiction, adding “not this is non-fiction”. I thought “wow! Score one for the Psychologist”. At this point I put my headphones on and began praying“Dear Lord, make this plane go faster!” and "Please don't allow me to get off the plane with a desire to drink Schlitz Malt Liquor, wear a peace sign, lay on a couch and bare my soul, or call this lady Mother."

Unfortunately on my way back from Tampa I didn't get the "Bump". I sat on the run way for an hour and a half next to two people who were not nearly far enough away from each other on the family tree to be married to one another.