all those hookers in their fucking car; 12-stepping hippies hanging out at the bar

Okay, so I know that I don’t typically write about anything too personal here, Internet, and generally that’s because it’s none of your goddamned business. Go out and get a life of your own.

But I had a very sad devastating thing happen to me recently, the kind of thing that turns your life upside down. So I thought I’d open myself up and share it with you, and let you comfort me in my time of need. Be my rock, Internet.

Okay. Here goes:

I was flying to New York last week, and when I checked in, I found out I wasn’t going to be upgraded to First Class.

I know!

I had to sit in an uncomfortably tiny little seat with no free meal and no free beer and no free hand job (that’s why they close the little curtain, you know, so you don’t see the wealthy getting the free hand jobs). And the worst part about it is I had to endure these inhumane conditions while sitting next to stupid poor people! The horror!

I should probably take a few minutes to explain that when I say “poor people,” I don’t mean that I feel sorry for them but, rather, that they don’t have a lot of money. And I should also explain that when I call them “stupid,” it’s because they can’t be particularly intelligent or else they wouldn’t be so poor.

In fact, I was reading the back of the package of peanuts they gave me (because that’s the kind of crap you have to eat in Coach) and it even says right there on the back that the peanuts were “packed in a facility that processes peanuts.” No shit, poor people! Too poor to figure that out on your own?

Anyway, I was so upset and, honestly, so hurt that it made me wish Delta was on Facebook so we could have been listed as “in a relationship,” and then I could change my relationship status and not say anything and the next time Delta logs on to play the mafia game or to become a fan of your mom or whatever the devil it is you people do on the Facebook, bam! In your face(book), Delta!

But all’s well that ends well, Internet.

Fortunately for you, me and the rest of the passengers (because I was in an exit row and had already decided that, as a way of protesting these third world conditions, I ain’t opening shit in the event of an emergency), Delta realized its mistake and upgraded me from Atlanta to New York, and then all the way to Seattle and back a few days later.

Well played, Delta. I forgive you.