As I’ve gotten older, I recognize that I was a child of privilege. I used to take it for granted that the fam and I used to take yearly vacations to the Caribbean, jaunts to the Bahamas, hood flights to Carolina, propellers to Barbados and business class trips to Europe. My flight journey would be complete once I’m on a private jet, being served by a hot flight attendant in a mini, serving me a martini. (And please don’t ask about the mile high club…nunya!)
Lately though, I’ve been humbled. Gone are the days were fear never entered my mind and the distraction of first class perks. The last few years I’ve realized something – I’m traveling in the damn sky!!!!!! So when turbulence hits, I break out in hives and I’m ready to bounce Mission Impossible style!
Now, leaving for Las Vegas to see the folks is pretty cut and dry – on the first leg – smooth sailing
then BAM!
Once we hit the Rocky’s, from that point forward it was a bumpy ride… and not like the fun kind from my BOB, rabbit, or other vibrating accessories
(SIDE NOTE: Why didn’t my non-tech ass realize that there some flights have wifi?)
So the last flight I took I’m checking the email after takeoff, I look at a guy across from me shaking like a prissy girl trying to be cute at a Bears home game in December.
My scary ass had the nerve to look at his scary ass like “you scurred?”
Even though 80% of the rest of the flight was bumpy, I didn’t flinch cause I was comforted by the fact that my balls were bigger than this grown ass man!
So from now on…I’m checking for THAT (type of) DUDE!
-LCS
