Business Class!
Ed was right about the meaning of my seat number for the second leg of my trip, the 1hr flight from Atlanta to Sarasota. I'm in first class, or business class, whatever it's called when they charge double for the ticket and supply you with booze and enough space to actually open a hinged cellular telephone without hitting the next passenger in the back of the head.
I like to imagine that, were the plane to hit an iceberg and begin to sink, the lifeboats would be given to us upperclassmen, while the froshes packed into the rest of the plane wait their never-to-come turn. Like in that movie Jim Cameron made before he went all technicolor and 3D.
All this luxury makes me feel slightly better about having wet cold feet due to Michigan's going away present.
