Bumped... an impromptu monologue

Thank you to my friend Emily Turner for posting a status on Facebook about flying that resulted in the long-winded comment that, in turn, resulted in this, an impromptu monologue. I called it Bumped.

Bumped by Jeremy Sony

I flew first class once. Once. In my life. And it was by total happenstance of getting bumped up to it. Never have I felt so... separated from humanity. They were serving us sodas while the other class cabins were boarding. And by "other class" I mean coach, maybe business, but let's face it, the travel industry is like the poster child for modern day classism. So up in first class, we're having drinks while the rest of the passengers shuffle on. And why is this a bad thing? Well... they could see us, laughing with out FULL CANS of pop, enjoying the elitism that we lorded over them like fat kings over feudal peasants. And God help me, I enjoyed it. Sure, for a minute it felt wrong, like I was a turncoat to my fellow back-of-the-plane compatriots. I was one of them just hours before. And I would be again after this short flight. Then I thought, it's okay if I get my caffeine a few minute before them. It's just a few minutes. They should be happy for me. It's like I won the lottery. I was one of them. Now I'm here. By happenstance, after all. That meant there was hope for everyone in coach. They, too, could get bumped, to sit where I was now seated. Later, my fellow coachers would ask me what it was like "up there". I would bring hope to those trapped behind the curtain. Hope of a new dawn for all airline travelers where seats are roomier, snacks are plentiful, and the drinks flow like nectar from Mt. Olympus. Except, none of that would happen. This was all a lie. The moment we finished our drinks and the plane had boarded behind us, behind that thin curtain that did nothing to hide our debauchery, the flight attendants made an announcement that would bump me back down to reality. There would be no drink service on this flight. It was just for us. The fat kings. The soulless elite. The bumped. The flight attendants had just made us drink our pop in front of the coachers AS THEY BOARDED, and then denied them their sweet refreshment. I knew then that first class was evil. The kind of evil that you bump into, the kind that leaves a mark. I only flew first class that once. And I'm still trying to get back.