My Love Affair with Executive Class

A few weeks ago I got a rare treat.  I got to fly Executive Class.

(Or is it First Class? Business Class?  Are those even different things?)   

I think I’ve done it before…flown non-economy.  I have a vague memory of a business trip to Asia in the late-90s involving marginally more leg-room and a special pillow.  Clearly I didn’t appreciate it in my youth. But after a decade-and-a-half more life experience, a long-haul business trip in Executive Class felt like a big deal.  There were many things to love.

Let’s start with the refreshments.  Typically I fly with food and beverages on-my-person.  I hate getting caught starving, shaky, and having to pay $7.00 for a soggy ham sandwich.  But when I arrived on the first leg of my flight and the service began, I saw I may not need my enormous bottle of water, huge Ziploc of nuts and beef jerky, and several protein bars.  You don’t need these things when there’s a nice lady offering you a glass of ice water every 15 minutes.  And champagne.  And delicate ceramic bowls of almonds and cashews.  Followed by a three-course meal at 3:00 in the afternoon.  At least there was a special little table-arm-rest-thing for my enormous bottle of water.  And all my champagne glasses.

Hot towels.  I’d forgotten the glory of hot towels.  Remember those guys?

Uh, that's not me.

Before the three course meal, the nice lady came around with a tray of rolled up hot towels that she handed out with tongs.  I don’t know what it is about those towels, but I felt like I was at the spa.  I wanted to ask her if I could get like seven more, so I could cover my whole head with them.  Then I could just lie there for a while and have a steam.  I also wanted to ask if she could scoot back later and give me a Swedish hot stone back massage. 

The bathroom. Sure, the bathroom was still a tiny little box.  But I swear something was subtly different about the lighting and the mirror.  I suddenly had a tan and looked skinny.  Somewhere between Calgary and Toronto, in a little toilet at 30,000 feet, I momentarily resembled Elle MacPherson.  It must have been all those hot towels.

The coat check.  I didn’t know there was a coat check.  At the end of the first leg of the flight, the nice lady who’d given me all the water and hot towels started handing out coats from a secret closet at the front of the airplane.  When everyone else had their coat, she stopped at me, puzzled.

“Did we get your coat, Ma’am?”

“Uh, mine’s rolled up in a ball in the overhead compartment.” 

Like I said, I didn’t know there was a secret coat check. 

The Star Trek Pod.  The next phase of the journey – the overnight part - was a whole other thing.  I got a pod.  My own little compartment with a fully reclining seat/bed and a fold away TV.  With the hum of the engine and the blue-ish mood-lighting and panel of buttons, I felt like I was strapping into the Starship Enterprise.  It took me a while to figure out all the buttons to actually fully recline the seat and find the REAL comforter and FULL-SIZED pillow.  No worries though.  There was lots of time.  After all, I still had a four-course meal to consume at 1:30 in the morning before settling in for some sleep.    

I eventually figured it all out.  And as I later lay totally horizontal in my little pod - wearing my complimentary Air Canada socks, fruity lip balm, and silky sleep mask - hurtling down the coast of South America amongst the stars, I thought I could get used to this.  I do believe this is how I was born to travel. 

Also not me.

Executive Class, it was a great couple of nights.  Thank you for everything and all you taught me.  I know we may not see each other again.  But I love you.  

Call me.