Know that I hate flying.

Be it on an airline (say what you want about first class…it ain't all that) or private jet, flying annoys the hell out of me.

I have some ideas on why I don't like flying though, chief amongst them is being forced to interact with the other passengers, plain and simple.

The differences between flying in first class and flying on a private jet play off against each other that I have no real preference.

On an airline; the lines are longer, the in-flight entertainment is atrocious, and the food nine times out of ten is unpalatable.

On the other paw; the other passengers on a private jet are almost always out-of-touch-with reality, high society, entitled jerkwads. This reason alone is equal to the bad points of using a commercial flight.

It was the latter I was using to go to my mission and there were two other passengers in the departure lounge. Both seemed to be CEOs and all regarded my outfit (I was still wearing the dress from my high school reunion) with unfeigned loathing and ignored me, which suited me fine.

I hoped they had the decency not to talk about me amongst themselves and within earshot.

Were I so lucky…

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This is sort of a small story inbetween chapters. It takes place right after the end of What I am.

[Edit] Small dialogue change (seven years later).