Our journey to Seoul began at SFO, in the international terminal (of course) at our usual shitty bar with the usual shitty offerings. It’s located at the very end of the international terminal, past all of the restaurants. It does the drinking trick, but good lord, does the food suck. Typically we fill up on pre flight beer and Jack Daniels (gag, but it’s the only brown liquor they have) and call it a day. This time, I upped the ante and ordered a particularly foul “pizza” along with a extraordinarily horrendous “pannini.”
Needless to say, I won’t be doing that again.
We xanax’d up, drank a disgusting (but large) glass of Jack, drank our large beers, and climbed onto flight SQ14.
At some point after we bought our original tickets, we were given the option, via email, to purchase extra legroom for $61/pp. The seats are located directly behind business class (first?) at the bulkhead, which meant that we could all stretch our legs out fully. It also meant that the middle row was reserved for babies and toddlers. I was bummed about that, but, if they were going to scream it wouldn’t really matter where I was sitting, and it turned out the little ones on the fight to Seoul were well behaved.
I was paranoid about my TV situation before we left, but it turns out those side bulkhead seats each have their own screen tucked into the armrest. They aren’t mounted on the wall like they are in that photo; that’s just for the toddler row. I also read the seats are colder than others on the plane, but I didn’t really notice one way or the other.
The plane itself is pretty 80’s looking and the flight attendants still wear the old school Singapore air uniform. They clearly still do weigh ins and must maintain a certain standard of beauty, as they were all really young, attractive, and thin. Before we took off they handed out menus that included all of the meals we would have on the flight, and each meal (dinner, snack, breakfast) had a western option, an Indian option, and a Korean option. We were also given a little nylon bag with socks, mini toothbrush and mini toothpaste, and a pair of headphones. Once we were in the air we ordered drinks and made our dinner selections. Jake went with the Indian option, I went chicken with potatoes and vegetables (western option). That first meal wasn’t bad.
Look at all of that leg room!
After dinner I abandoned Jake to sit with Randi, ordered more wine, attempted to play cribbage (fail), took another Xanax, took a sleeping pill, and made a final plea with a flight attendant for just one glass of wine, as long as I promised her I would go to bed after. Look, I know this wasn’t the brightest choice, but flying totally wigs me out.
I don’t remember stumbling back over to Jake, but apparently I did, and once settled I think I possibly took another sleeping pill. The next thing I knew there was two hours left in the fight and they were serving breakfast. What happened in between is a mystery that I can only half piece together, partly through the creepy selfies I took in the bathroom, and partly through my journal entry:
I do remember snippets of the movie “Blue is the Warmest Color,” namely the hard core lesbian sex scenes that were on my TV whilst toddlers roamed the aisles, and that Jake was fondling, or talking about fondling, our seatmates boobs. It turns out I ate a tuna sandwich at some point in the night (journal) but, I have absolutely zero recollection of that. I wasn’t even burping that flavor when I came to.
By the time breakfast was served, our flight attendant had lost her friendly attitude, most certainly because I came within a glass of wine from OD’ing on the flight. My breakfast photo is blurry (shocker) but I do know I ate it all and Randi found it so foul she couldn’t finish it.
In the end, flying Singapore was a delight, and not just because I was so wasted. The leg room was great, the food was just fine, and more importantly, there was plenty of it.