Unabashedly Trashy on a Private Plane

Is it possible to act like taking a private jet is no big deal?

For some, yes. For me, hell no.

As I have stated before, white trash is doing something you know is a tad inappropriate but doing it anyway while not giving a rat’s ass. And it seems as if I fit this description every time I try to ‘be cool’ about outrageous things I get to do. So while riding in a private jet, I was my typical fabulously trashy self (hey, at least I’m consistent).

If taking a private plane is second nature to you, there is no need to take a photo of your transportation.

Hey Mom – look what I’m riding in!

But when you’re classy like me and think this may be your one and only opportunity to ever board a jet plane like a superstar (I’m the hired help), you go bananas and try to document the trip so you can prove you were actually on the plane.

Fancy folks are not impressed with the gold plated seat belt. I, on the other hand acted like it was a solid gold and felt the need to capture the moment.

Doing my very best Vanna White impersonation with the fabulous accessory. Impressive, I know.

Private planes have heavily stocked liquor cabinets that I was happy to help empty.  And, when you constantly travel via private jet, you know to sit in the seats with cup holders to hold your tasty beverages.

Not me. I had to sit on the couch because the planes I normally ride in don’t contain living room furniture.  Therefore, I had my neighbor hold my wine glass when my hands were busy.

Seat mates = cup holders on private planes.

And the glass remained in tact during landing. A classy experiment we had going on. Our traveling companions were not as amused. Go figure.

The truly fabulous jet setter knows that pilots fly the plane.  I of course had to capture the moment in the cockpit in case I forgot.

Pilots flying a plane. How outrageous.

After helping the flight attendant clean out the liquor cabinet, I had no shame in becoming her best friend. And of course I had to solidify our new found friendship with a photo.

The ever patient Chelsea who provided endless refills. You know she’s secretly thinking that this flight seems never ending with a passenger like me.

The fabulous jet setting crowd know that they can carry whatever they want onto the aircraft. I got so excited to bring the Milwaukee Public Market millionth customer gift basket aboard (over my dead body was that basket going under the plane to get banged up after the great ‘sweet potato incident’) that I spilled its contents boarding the plane, horrifically watching my loot hit the tarmac (you can breathe a sigh of relief – all of my goodies remained in mint condition.  But I don’t think the flight crew had ever seen anyone loose marbles over a cookbook the way I did as I galloped down the stairs to collect my scattered basket).

I would not let my loot leave my side. And I would not shut up about it, referring to myself as “one in a million girl.” Annoying? Yes. But not to me!

And after all that running around the runway, gathering my basket belongings, I hustled up into the plane to get a snapshot of myself acting like a lady of leisure in the talent’s seat (of course before he got on).

Oh Dahling. This old piece of metal? No biggie, I fly around in it all of the time. Where’s my glass of champs?

Oh this private jet thing is no big deal. If you’re a billionaire.