One of the greatest things about living in America is definitely easy access to The New Yorker. You might think I am exaggerating, but try being from a small country with limited access to good periodicals. (I think I might have just alienated all my freelancing opportunities in the Czech Republic. All in the name of freedom of speech, though!)
This week’s New Yorker has an entertaining piece by David Sedaris, called Journey into Night: Business class emotions. It describes his experiences traveling from Paris to JFK in business class. It’s a great, quick, funny read that will make you wish all those poor little bastards in business choked on their warm nuts.
Here is a glimpse:
“I’d once read where a first-class passenger complained-threatened to sue, if I remember correctly-because the blind person next to him was traveling with a Seeing Eye dog. He wasn’t allergic, this guy. Labrador retrievers on the street didn’t bother him, but he hadn’t paid thousands of dollars to sit next to one, or at least that was his argument. If that had seemed the last word in assholiness, this was a close second.”