[youtalkfunny]

First time I go home on leave, I wear my Class A uniform (you know, the snazzy, dress-up version) on the plane. The regs say you have to, and I was too much of a newb to realize that nobody would give a crap if I didn't.

(Now that I think of it, every time I see a kid in an airport wearing his Class A's, it's always a newb private.)

Any way, I step aboard the plane. A male flight attendant is greeting the passengers. He's giving everyone the usual fake enthusiastic greeting, but when he gets to me, he points to a seat in Business Class and tells me, "Your seat is right there."

I'm confused. "No, I'm in seat 67-F."

"No," he says, again pointing to the front row in business class, "your seat is right there."

He didn't know that I was young and stupid. Nor did he know that I'm from the Northeast, and we like to argue, and we'd rather be right than sitting in a comfortable seat in Business Class with free booze and a real dinner.

I scowl to show my annoyance at his stupidity, and draw a deep breath to tell him that he doesn't know what he's talking about...

...I'm saved by a nearby female flight attendant, who brings her face very close to mine and says sternly yet sweetly, "He's trying to be nice to you."

The light bulb over my head finally illuminates. I mutter an embarrassed "Oh, thanks," and take my new seat.

Anybody remember the days of a real meal on a plane? I got a steak. It came on a real plate, with steel utensils and a cloth napkin. Everyone back in Row 67 was eating a soggy ham sandwich in a paper box.