Where the Wild Things Are
San Francisco met Las Vegas this December. And it may never be the same.
I don’t know if anyone’s aware of the fact that Virgin America now flies from to San Francisco, but if you happen to be going there -- FLY VIRGIN. We caught a 9:00 a.m. flight at LAS on Saturday December 1, and let me tell you, Virgin planes are like constructs from the future. The normal uncomfortable and poorly patterned airplane seats have been replaced with black and white leather spacious recliners. We’re not talking Lazy Boys here, but I was pretty floored to find out you can lean back to an actually comfortable level without expecting any expletives from the individual behind you. Not to mention you get to pick your seats online where you can tell exactly whereabouts all the other passengers are already going to be sitting.
The supremely modern cabin design, probably reminiscent of boarding a luxury spacecraft, is complemented with colorful mood lighting that adjusts by time of day. Lounge music plays as you board and an individual touch screen monitor lodged in the seat ahead of you gives you something to do while in air -- whether watching TV on Dish Network, a movie on Showtime, or playing a video game. “Shopping” and “chatting” with other passengers are options that are currently in the works, while ordering snacks and drinks is already available. For $1.99 I watched a thoroughly enjoyable episode of The Office called “Booze Cruise”.
Back in San Francisco, it’s Pete’s dirty 30. All of our friends’ birthdays lately have been around the 30 mark, and next will be Chad’s.
Touching down at the airport stirred a mixed emotional reaction -- the beauty of San Francisco: A place where tap water is actually consumable … and … Pete’s dirty 30: a time when our entire fitness-oriented group will mildly undo all our hard work from the months prior, rendering us practically useless for the next week. Anyone remember Brad’s dirty 30? (You probably read about it.) AKA “3 Days in the Life : A Wild Tour de Las Vegas.”
I liken it to going 80 mph toward a brick wall. You know what you’re doing, and you know the end result. But you don’t really care until it’s too late.
Saturday, December 1
3:00 p.m.
The Hilton
“Mind Erasers!”
All eight of us were present now, which instantly means the mayhem must begin.
In case you don’t know what a “mind eraser” is, it’s a little drink you suck as fast as you can through a straw. Yeah, I know, great concept, huh? A few drinks and maybe an hour later, the noise level in the Hilton lounge had been raised a few decibels by our presence. (Maybe more than a few.) I started calculating the odds of getting kicked out of our hotel on the first day.
“What’s this? We didn’t order … did anyone order these?”
“Mind Erasers!” announces our bartender. “On the house! Happy birthday, Peter!”
An uproarious cheer was followed by an intoxicated Pete, saying, “Awesome! Thanks Harold. Are you sure you don’t want to kick us out, though?”
“No way! You guys are good people! Definitely good people!”
“Ha! That’s what you think right now! You better go ahead and just introduce me to your head of security. Tell him to come on over so we can all get acquainted before the noise complaints start!”
Pete was joking, but about five minutes later a large man came over and introduced himself to the crowd as head of security.
“You made a big mistake, letting us stay here.”
“It’s okay Pete, I think he already knows ...”
Precocious entrepreneur, workaholic and a rabid perfectionist Crystal Starlight knows a thing or two about getting ahead at a young age. Email her at [email protected]