Our loving Heavenly Father has always saw fit to put crying babies into my environment.
It happened again.
I suffer from hyperacusis and noise drives me nuts.
A business class ticket from Hong Kong to Singapore can cost up to around 20,000 bucks Hong Kong, yet on a recent flight, I saw at least 5 children flying business class. Business class, a sanctuary for weary souls, a haven of tranquility, was transformed into a veritable zoo.
One was a baby who cried non-stop with parents doing absolutely nothing to stop the racket, the others were older, about four or five years old and each occupying their own seats. They must have wealthy parents or parents with loads of airmiles to redeem.
But the pièce de résistance, the true masterpiece of this chaotic performance, was a three-year-old in her own seat who had a panic attack during the last 15 minutes prior to touchdown and because the seatbelt sign was on there was nothing her parents could do to pacify her other than to shout from their seats to her, coaxing and pleading with her to calm down.
Her parents must be those retards I suspect Bob Dylan had in mind when he sang, “You’re an idiot, baby, and it’s a wonder you still know how to breathe.” I mean, come on, strapping a toddler to her own seat located several rows away from her parents, who were out of her sight, and expecting the poor kid to deal with the turbulence, the ear-popping, the strangeness of it all. (Earlier, I had overheard that it was the kid’s first-ever flight on an airplane.)
The result was that the clearly traumatized kid was yelling, crying, screaming and then projectile-vomiting. It was a full-blown meltdown.
I don’t know about you, but I’m one of those who upon smelling vomitus, had to fight to pull myself from becoming a participant of the puke fest. That’s why every time I sense an olfactory assault, I make a dash to the door. In this case, I couldn’t just open the door of the plane. So in puke ville I was imprisoned.
What a fucking nightmare!
Business class on an airplane is designed to offer business travelers an enhanced experience with superior comfort, service, and convenience. It ensures they arrive at their destination well-rested and prepared to work. The business class cabin is a sacred space, a temple of comfort designed for those who toil tirelessly, those who deserve a respite from the mundane. Yet, it has become a playground for the privileged, a breeding ground for airborne chaos.
Those who fly business class expect not having their flight wrecked by disruptive passengers of any age. This isn’t about protecting the “arrogant” flyers up front from the noisy dregs of society in cattle class at the back of the plane.
My ticket was paid for by my client. What about those people who top dollars out of their own pockets for a premium seat? Shouldn’t there be some assurance that they won’t be subject to needless discomfort over the course of their flight?
Please don’t label me as an entitled “male Karen.” A business class passenger voicing concerns about screaming children is not an act of “entitlement.” This term has become a trendy buzzword, often used to shift discussions into sociopolitical territory where they don’t necessarily belong.
Nowadays maybe business class is for money launderers to show that their money is being dispensed legitimately?
Perhaps, in this age of enlightened consumerism, business class has evolved. No longer a haven for weary travelers, it has become a sophisticated money laundering scheme, a gilded cage for the offspring of the ultra-wealthy.
Singapore has seized nearly US$5 billion in dirty money since 2019.
Plus, in Singapore, scams aren’t just a problem – they’re a booming industry! Over S$385.6 million vanished into scammers’ pockets in just the first half of 2024, a nice little 24.6% increase from 2023. If this trend keeps up, we might just hit a jaw-dropping S$770 million in losses by year-end.