Due to a fluke opportunity, I am flying in first class for my first (and probably last) time ever. I decided before the flight that I will accept the royal treatment and that I will not let the guilt creep in just because those people behind me are sitting in cramped seats without hot towel service or a complimentary open bar. Thankfully there is a curtain between us.
Then the dinner arrives. No need for guilt here. Besides the fact that the meal is not your average plane fare, neither is the waste. In fact, there is not one disposable item, other than the little package that the salad dressing came in.The manicotti, vegetable soup, salad, and cheesecake are all served on real plates and bowls . The Jack Daniels in a real glass. Real silver cutlery that a supposed terrorist would supposedly ogle over. And a real cloth serviette to wipe up with and protect my cargo shorts. Even the salt and pepper are served in tiny, reusable personal size shakers.
I can do without the large leather seats and hot towel service, but I think that I have been spoiled by this dinner and I can’t go back. I want the real thing. I want the real glass and the real china and the real cloth serviettes, always and forever, in the air and on the ground.
Nope, no guilt here at 30,000 feet, soaring above the hazy skies looking down at tortured farmlands and billowing smokestacks. I did my share. I paid the $5.41 to offset my carbon footprint for this first class flight from Houston to Portland.
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