So I decided to break up our Acapulco trip into smaller chunks.
First up, I don't understand the whole "Please get to your seats quickly so we can take off on time" spiel they give as you board the plane. How about you help people with their bags instead of standing there with the loudspeaker you mini-fascist?
Actually we were in First Class, Row 1, so we got to our seats reasonably fast. Then half way through boarding a woman said to Anne "You look so sad". Christ, we're in First Class on our way to Mexico, how fucking sad can you look?
Next up, a woman who was clearly not blind, claimed her seat in Row 2, with Dooli, a service dog. Cute dog. The bitch (non-canine) who had earlier asked everyone to hustle as they boarded the plane looked like she was tasting a lemon each time she looked at the dog. I was kind of happy when the dog started to puke.
Halfway through the flight a lady threw up, which meant she was wheel-chaired into the First Class toilet. This must have sucked for the woman who was on crutches who had earlier been rejected access to our bathroom.
An insanely fast connection in Houston ensued, before we sat down in Row 1 again! Flying to Mexico means one thing to me. The Mexican Customs form. Fuck I always bring 2 telescopes, and have one confiscated.