I recently had the distinct honor (spoken with the ever slightest pinch of sarcasm) of flying Business Class on an American Airlines flight cross country. Always a win over being forced to have your legs feeling like they're getting crushed between 2 cabs in New York City...aka...
But alas there was an issue:
Noisy brat alert on aisle 7, seats E and F.
E: Mom. F: wailing toddler.
Yup, I know some of you out there are saying "it's my right to bring my kid in biz class." Yes, it apparently still is. And, I have no problem with that.
They're not practicing the ancient Shaman ritual of...
No. it's not the Better Business Bureau either (which is a complete shambolic shell game...but more on that in doo course).
It's Blabbering Babies in Business Class.
The term is no doubt self-explanatory. But in the interests of being clear, accurate and with nary a trace of ambiguity...a kid is crying and moaning for 3 of the 5 hours of the flight.
Thankfully, the 2 'quiet' hours was no-doubt Mom finally letting junior sample her Hennessy on the rocks.
Here's the thing: Why should other flyers who've spent more money to get the feeling back in their legs have to put up with little Ricky noisemaker?
The answer is they shouldn't in my humble yet incredibly handsome opinion.
But I don't make the rules...yet.