152. Prima Classe

If I won the Megabucks, I wouldn’t change much.

I wouldn’t quit my job, or buy a second home, even in Italy. I’d still drive my fourteen-year-old Hyundai, and shop at Target and Marshall’s. I’d pass on Michelin three-stars and eat at greasy spoons and little ethnic holes in the wall. There’s only one life upgrade I long for, and that is to always fly overseas first class.

Several years ago on a flight out west in my usual sardine class, I was crammed next to a young man. We got to talking, and he told me that he always flies to Paris on La Compagnie, an airline where the only class is first. I stored that little scrap of information in my fading memory bank, and a few weeks ago, when I saw an announcement on Facebook that La Compagnie had just expanded to offer flights from Newark to Milan, I pounced. With their promotional fare, it was only $200 more than our usual economy flights from Philly to Italy, well worth the money and the two-hour drive in my book.

So is first class everything it’s cracked up to be? Short answer is a resounding yes. Comfortable lounge with free food and drink beforehand. Greeted with champagne on boarding.

New, spotless plane. Excellent dinner. Most important, the ability to get a few hours of sleep lying down, which allowed for a first day of activity rather than recovery.

But the most telling indicator is that when the pilot announced that we were beginning our descent, instead of thinking “Thank God!” my reaction was “Already?”