Ask Lemmy

Business class flight to Japan. I’m just some engineer in a rural factory and was headed to some rural factories, but damn was the trip fancy. As we landed my coworker had to explain that the booze was free.

It was definitely a wild journey

I ate dinner in NYC at the penthouse fancy restaurant of some five star hotel. I could barely eat I was so intimidated. The food at that time was for some reason having a trend of "foams", which is this weird thing where it was like lobster with a side of foamy stuff. I never understood how that was food, but the restaurant by itself was incredible.

I got invited to some sort of literary award ceremony at the French embassy a few years back. I, uh, severely underdressed for the occasion. I got the invite for participating in the Albertine book store's bookclub, and for whatever reason, my brain went, "I can show up to this like I would dress for a bookclub session, it's the same people." Spoiler, it was not, and I really should have been at least in a button up and slacks, rather than my hoodie and jeans. As luck would have it, the gentleman who won the award, Emmanuel Dongala, was sat next to me during the speeches. I can still remember the look of "What the classless, American fuck is this guy doing?" as he took his seat next to me.

On the other hand, I went to my first opera at the NY Metropolitan Opera last year basically dressed the same way, and it was surprisingly entirely fine. Turns out, very few people want to be sat for hours in formal attire when hardly anyone can see you in the dark, anyway.

My aunt did hostile takeovers and her husband was even more rich. Their kitchen was bigger than my entire house. And that was their vacation house. I couldn't appreciate most of it, I was just a kid. But I remember my cousin had a pool in his room.

One time I went to the restaurant DAMON BAEHREL. I was informed afterwards that it had a 10-year waiting list and only seated 100 people a month. Despite having regularly commuted between the Midwest and the East Coast, getting there felt like the longest road trip I've ever taken since I had to go with my mother-in-law and some of it is on a gravel road.

I had to Google DAMON BAEHREL to spell it and I'm not going to bother retyping it.

It was far and away the most pretentious, absurd, cartoonishly fancy experience I've ever had, and I've dressed up in antique ceremonial Moroccan robes for a banquet at the art museum in the city I grew up in. At the art museum I sat next to the mayor's mother in a room of 200 people conversely, about 30 people total could fit into DAMON BAEHREL.

I thought the art museum banquet was fancy, but when I was little I thought Boston Market and IBC root beer were fancy.

DAMON BAEHREL was the kind of place that serves a dozen 'courses' but each one is like one cracker one sliver of cheese and one spritz of condiment with maybe a sliver of sausage made from some bespoke farm animal. He insisted that the water we were drinking was actually unreduced tree sap. Everything was served on various slabs of wood some with the bark still on it. The slabs were so much larger than the food It looked like putting a coin on a serving platter for each course.

I just felt embarrassed every time I looked at the Damon and his staff. They had clearly heard his bullshit so many times that it was hard for them to feign credulity anymore.

Anyway, that shit was way too fancy for me. Clearly it was just wasted on me.

Honestly, where I live now.

I rent a bare-bones townhouse. Two rooms, and a basement with an old washer and dryer, and a small garage.

I have always lived in apartments, sometimes with fewer rooms than people. Having an entire place of my own (that's not a studio apartment) is sometimes unbelievable to me. A washer and dryer downstairs? No quarters? I don't have to look for a spot, I have a garage? I don't have to cram my entire life in one room, I have an "office!?" This will likely be the closest to "home owner" I'll get and it still feels unreal after almost two years here. It's certainly not going into anyone's Pinterest board, and there are issues, but I always feel "bougie" when I open the garage 🤣

I went with a friend to Vegas. He was going to one of those super-posh conferences for his line of work, and just casually wanted to split the hotel bill (because he's cheap; the dude could afford to live in one of those hotels year round). At the end of the conference, all of his colleagues were throwing some party at the top of one of the hotels on the strip. He helped me through the security screen and we left the elevator. We went from a world of bright lights and gaudiness to dark passion and sultry beats where each seat at their reclined cushion alcoves was worth thousands of dollars. Prostitution may be illegal in Vegas, technically, but escorts that looked like world-famous supermodels (male and female, to be clear) were writhing across every lap at those recessed tables.

My friend got me to the balcony, where I got a picture of the entire strip at night. Then my friend casually mentioned that getting a drink would be about $1200 and we went back down to the normal floors for the free booze and $2 blackjack.

I got very randomly bumped up to first class on a transatlantic flight for business. I do not travel much for business, especially internationally. So, I definitely should not have had priority over more regular accounts. I have to assume I just got lucky, and that flight happened to have no frequent flyers.

It was an eye opening experience. I got to hang out in a secret lounge. When my flight was ready to board, multiple staff escorted us to the gate. When we landed, we took a private van to a secret side entrance, which had its own first class only passport check. We were brought to another secret first class lounge through hidden back hallways to wait for our connections. The lounge looked down over the terminal, and the exit was a nondescript door you'd assume was a maintenance entrance.

Being around that level of service and the other people in first class, it's clear the wealthy live in another world. I looked up how much that ticket normally goes for after, and full price is for many people a yearly salary. It was nice, but it seems like a crazy way to divide resources.

I was tier one help desk, overnight, in a children's hospital.

I had a doctor call me, who expressly made it clear he didn't want a run around, while manually palpating a child's heart to keep it in rhythm and thus, the child alive.

I told him there are back ups upon back ups that can be implemented, and I am happy to talk about his computer problem when the patient is SAFE. Not a little, "we got this," safe, but SAFE.

Tier one help desk, overnight, no support, and I had to tell a person who turned out to be a board member that he could go fuck himself on his computer problem until the child patient was safe.

My first job was customer service, and I've been in IT for a dozen years. Its still customer service. You just have to realize who the customer is - in the case of a children's hospital, it is always the child.