Imposter Syndrome, Anyone?

You know what’s wrong with first class? The realization that it probably isn’t going to happen again very often. 

I’ve been very happy with this investment in our vacation this summer. First class flights, a much nicer stateroom on the cruise (with a real porthole) and a basic disregard for a budget. Sly and I deserve it.

Been a pretty stressful year for both of us. Sly’s dad dying was just the beginning. The new role I’ve taken on at Applied Research, additional responsibility for Sly at work. Just a few of the things that have vexxed us over the last year. 

Our summer vacation last July was a pretty cool road trip down to Oregon. I really enjoyed that but it wasn’t Disney. Sly put up with it and almost enjoyed it but we really wanted this year to be a big one for travel. I don’t think we could have foreseen the trouble we’d encounter over the year but this will definitely help. Let’s get back to first class……

You get on the aircraft first, sit back and relax with a soothing beverage. We selected coffee and I ordered an orange juice as well. Two drinks?  Not an eyelash was batted. 

Then we sit, enjoy our drinks while the rest of the plane boards. We make idle chatter, trying not to make eye contact with the others walking by us. I actually, for just a moment, feel very self conscious and out of place. I’m supposed to be one of those people walking by.

We get into the air and they come by with cloth place mats for our breakfast. I’ve selected the only option left (the other option was unavailable for us in the second row) a chorizo flatbread. Sly is now left with no option. I expressed some disappointment to the attendant who, upon hearing my wife doesn’t eat beef or pork, offered a snack box and all the fruit from the first class breakfast. I was struck dumb and offered my sincere thanks for the way they were serving us. And he kept bringing stuff like fruit for my wife. You could bet we wouldn’t be getting this sort of attention in economy. 

Is it too early for a drink I ask the attendant? It’s 5 o’clock somewhere is the reply. I ordered a gin and tonic (my inflight drink of choice lately)and receive a double. We better just give him more now so we’re not running back and forth to the galley was probably the logic behind that decision. When the second one arrives during breakfast I realize I’ve overplayed my hand. I gesture to Sly, who’s been more conservative with her beverage selection, that assistance will be required. She gestures back: you’re cut off. I nod my acquiecence.

I’m looking around and I definitely don’t fit in. Sly mentions were the youngest people in this part of the plane. Which then makes me think about retirement and if I’m doing enough so that we can have a comfortable, if not luxurious, retirement. 

See? This is what happens when I get free gin and tonics on a flight. I get all introspective and shit. Can I get another drink over here please?

Tell me why this sucks......