The airport was barren and completely devoid of life. With every single store closed, I ended up wandering the deserted halls alone, waving at the occasional person that would walk past. When it was time to board the plane, I realized there were only fourteen other passengers on the flight.
I always treat myself to first class and felt that it was warranted in times like these. But to put it simply, this was not at all the luxurious experience I had expected. First of all, I hadn’t even been given a towel, let alone a single amenity. While all the attendants were doing the best they could, this was a far cry from the luxurious, first class flight experience I knew and loved. How can a fine lady survive a 5-hours long flight without a single glass of champagne?
The staff had to follow the coronavirus safety protocol, so no getting close to the passengers. All I could get my hands on was some charcuterie and bottled water, which was so distant from the typical luxurious first-class flight experience I’m accustomed to. The second I landed in Los Angeles, I whipped out my phone and informed my slaves that I was in need of pampering.
