My First Class Face

Check this beautiful piece of writing from Mark, at Exile on Pain Street. Example of well chiseled editing, puts you right in the passenger’s seat. Enjoy!

Exile on Pain Street

I drained my frequent flyer account for a first class upgrade on a flight to Las Vegas. It’s only the third or fourth time I sat in first. It’s not a subtle difference. It’s a significant improvement. It’s like the scene from The Wizard of Oz when everything goes from black and white to color.

I was praying my seatmate would be a wealthy boor. Someone who’s accustomed to luxury and whose standards are so impeccably high that nothing is ever good enough. Hypersensitive, unaware of their good fortune not afraid to point out the inferior. I love having my prejudices and preconceived notions validated. Well, I got what I wanted. That’s only happened three or four times in my life as well.

I boarded right away. Group 1. Other passengers started their slow Bataan Death March past me to coach. I imagined them looking down at me and thinking…

View original post 673 more words

About pinklightsabre

William Pearse publishes memoir, travel journals, poetry and prose, and lives in the Pacific Northwest.
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One Response to My First Class Face

  1. Yeah, everyone. Do what he says. Right away!

    All kidding aside, thanks, pal. It’s like winning a validation contest.

    Like

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