ramtower

Off to Kyoto for a business trip. The business-class experience of travel is still weird to me, like I’m in an entirely separate airport, a phantom airport superimposed over the one I’m used to wandering through. Meals are expensed, the lounge seats are quite and comfortable, and I’m not constantly watching my bags out of fear that something will happen to them. Tim’s on his second glass of (complimentary) Jameson, taking full advantage of the amenities, while I’m stocking up on free bagels and packets of cream cheese–my feral coach-class roots are showing, and I’m hoarding food out of fear that I’ll never see an attendant once the flight begins. I think I might have snarled at a guy who got too close to my snack cache.

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