Business Class Bitch

Something happened to me on a flight several weeks ago that has really stuck with me. I was flying back to Hong Kong from Shanghai -- in coach. I actually don't mind flying coach, although this particular flight was a little rough. In the row of seats behind me, I could count at least three small children who were, well, acting like children. I realize it's not their fault, so I usually just crank up the Ipod and try to shut them out.

I was near the front of the coach section (thankfully), and kept noticing this strange lady walking back and forth between my section and business class. This is usually a 'no no,' and I know when I fly business class, I pretend like I've never set foot in anything less. I pressed pause on my music so I could eavesdrop.

Lady: "Who cried? I can hear crying -- which one of you was it?"

Kids: *assorted whimpering and blubbering*

Lady: "You need to sit down and behave!"

While I agreed with her in principal, I couldn't figure out what kind of person had the guts to come yell at someone else's kids who were sitting in an entirely different section of the plane. Then I figured it out; it was their own mother. I peeked through the seats to see that she had two "helpers" (I can usually tell because they are Filipino) attending to her children on her behalf. All of them crammed in coach while she sipped champagne in b-class. I guess there may be some legit reason why she would do this (maybe she was offered a free upgrade -- who could refuse?!), but I had already decided: she was simply a bitch.

She only confirmed my suspicion after we landed. The stewardesses conveniently stand between business class and coach to allow the higher-paying passengers a chance to get off before all of us cattle start stampeding. The Bitch stuck her head over the top of the crowd, pushing the stewardess to the side, and had the guts to ask us to get out of the way as her family -- who were several rows deep -- could get off with her. I actually laughed out loud. She then appealed her case directly to her kids, as if we all could no longer hear what she was saying.

Bitch: "Kids ... can you just push your way through?"

Kids: *look up at me, getting a death glare returned*

Bitch: "Just duck under all the people kids and come to the front!"

Although I was in no hurry to deplane, I slid myself squarely in the aisle so her 5 year old could stare directly at my backside. I guess she was only worried about the kids getting off. The "helpers" can wait in the chow line with the rest of us, probably arriving at the gate just in time to lug her over-packed Louis Vuitton luggage to her waiting towncar. She's probably make them ride in the trunk too. Or walk home.

And this is why I can never get a helper. I could so be this lady. After spending a entire childhood bossing around my brother (and mother to the best of my ability), not to mention AC taking his unfortunate share of dictator-style direction -- I know better. Having someone, who is actually paid to take shit from me, and who gets deported if I decide to fire them? Oh no ... too much power for this guy.

I wonder if AC will have dinner ready by the time I get home? Just to be safe, I'd better call ahead and demand it. :)