Long live my Dad

My father taught me that when you fly you should always dress in a suit and arrive as late as possible. This maximises your chances of an upgrade to first class. And it worked. Besuited, I crashed the gates at Lima as late as I was comfortable and made sure I was the last to board the plane. And just as I walked onto the gangplank, my boarding pass was seized and replaced with one for Business class. SCORE! Big seats, metal knives and forks, as if your average terrorist is only going to travel steerage, and wee tiny ceramic salt and pepper shakers. And free booze and big seats. So I got tanked on gin and then passed out. Oh joy.