It’s only been five days since Prince William married his Kate. It was an amazing wedding, Kate’s beauty and the gorgeous ceremony captivated the world. But in a break with the traditions of the Royal family, William and Kate had already been living together. Kate was not a Virgin
So just five days later I have gone one better than William and found myself a Virgin. True, I am not going to marry her, and true, the world will not be watching, but she has agreed to spend a very long night with me, and the lucky few who read my fabulous blog are about to learn all the details. Sadly, at my age I have to pay for my virgin, and pay well for such a privilege, but I am hoping it will be worth it. We are going to fly as high as we can together.
What I am trying to tell you is that I am flying on Virgin Australia from Los Angeles to Sydney . But it is definitely a Virgin experience, which becomes obvious the moment we enter their terminal at LAX. They clearly haven’t learned the ways of the airline world, which is a huge advantage.
Everything is high energy and fun. Have you ever heard of such a thing? Dance Music is playing throughout their check in area. Huge vases of tropical flowers sit on pedestals. The check in agent is a young black dude who looks as if he would be more at home behind a microphone in a rap club. He has a huge smile with impossibly white teeth, really short crimped hair tightly weaved next to his head, a skin that could grace any skin care product, bulging biceps barely contained by the short white sleeves of his uniform shirt, and a six pack to die for. Well, OK, I can’t actually see his six pack, but I am having little trouble imagining it. He is absolutely charming. If there were teenage girls in the vicinity they would be screaming with excitement. But there is just me and I am trying hard not to. He is assisted by an equally young and attractive woman. She is slim and short with carefully applied make up and dyed black hair cut in a modern asymetrical style. In another sign of Virginity, he does the computer work while she struggles to lift our bags, tag them and throw them onto the conveyor belt. She is so tiny I want to offer to help, but that would mean taking my eyes off the young man,
We are, you will be delighted to hear, flying Business Class. Well if you are not delighted, I certainly am. Virgin has three classes, economy, premium economy and business class. In Europe they call it upper class. Such an appropriate term for us Brits, and such an appropriate place for me! There are thirty three seats that fully recline into flat beds, and on this flight there are just 6 passengers. Now that’s fabulous. We are told that the back is full, but I have no desire to go behind the curtain and check that fact for myself.
The cabin staff continue the theme of the check in staff: young, attractive, charming and perfectly put together. What more could we ask for ? Of course the answer to that is champagne, and Zoe, our flight attendant is smart enough to recognise that. She comes over to introduce herself and her services with a bottle in hand. We ask her how she knew that is what we wanted, and she replies that we just looked like champagne kind of guys. It’s love at first sight. She is young, tall, blond and slim with a perfect tan. Her long blond hair is tied in the back and falls down to her shoulders. Her uniform is a figure enhancing knee length red dress which suits her perfectly. She wears a a pair of extremely stylish glasses with a heavy orange and white frame. The look is straight out of Star Trek. She bubbles almost as much as the champagne. In minutes we are laughing together which attracts her colleague, Donny, who comes over to join in the fun. Donny looks as if he skipped school for the day and jumped on board the plane. But even if he isn’t old enough to be working, he definitely has the required look, He too is gorgeous, with a deep tan, spiky sun bleached hair and a lot of beauty products. His look is the perfect Australian Surfer Dude, but his behaviour is, shall we say, more suited to a starring role in Priscilla Queen of the Desert. He is even more fun than Zoe, and I discover it is easy to make him blush. How adorable.
Whoever picks Virgin staff has a very good eye! If I wasn’t so happy roaming the world, I could settle down and do that job.
Zoe and Donny look after us perfectly and we have one of the best airline meals I have ever had, with beautifully cooked lamb chops, all washed down with buckets of champagne. Sleep should come easily.
All we have to do is ring our button and Zoe runs over and makes up our beds for us. She even volunteers to tuck us in. Donny is blushing in the background.
Before she makes the bed she hands us each a pair of pajamas and suggests we retire to the bathroom to change while she makes the bed. The pajamas are a lovely thought, but are the first sign of where we are going. They are black. The top is a long sleeve v neck T Shirt and the bottoms look like a badly made pair of sweatpants. Actually the entire thing is badly made. There are no hems, the edges are just stitched with a heavy brown cotton. The pants have a drawstring waist which is actually just a piece of rope, and if you pull it too tight in burns. If you don’t pull it tight they fall down as there is no elastic. The ankles also have a drawstring rope in them that seem to serve no purpose other than to drag along the floor behind you. The label says the fabric is cotton but it feels more like sack cloth. It reminds me of prison garb – not that I have been there, you understand, but prison garb as seen on TV.
It seems appropriate, as we are about to step off the plane into the worlds largest penal colony