A flight into the future

[Andrew Jackson™]

By Jin Kazama

What a stressful conversation it was having to go back and forth with my father on wanting to become a wrestler, he couldn’t just wrap his head around the idea of his billionaire son wanting to run around in tights. Well dad they are my groins, I will suffocate them if I want. Well he is the ruler of a great tribe but the irony that you would serve the people but never get to serve yourself, not really. I mean he has a royal cockpit stink detector, and by cockpit I mean… And by detector I mean a lady that checks if his pilot stinks, or if his pilot is ready to fly into some new hanger or if he needs some blue pill inspiration.
I have always been an independent minded person in the midst of all the wealth, I from a very young age always wanted to make it for myself but alas I shall never experience the thrill people get from earning their own money because I have oil well money, how boring. Well even though I am used to this life of luxury I can make it with the peasants I know it, in fact, I will prove this!

“Two ECONOMY CLASS tickets to the United States of America, California”

Though polished from my time schooling in the UK, I can still hear my Arabian accent mix with the English.
Finally conscious of my surroundings being lost in my mind this entire time, I am in the Dubai airport with a crowd of people dressed (maybe to your surprise) like every other western country. With the return of my consciousness comes the feeling of being watched by hundreds of people around me, especially those behind me in the line. I am dressed in a black and gold dishdasha with a white headscarf. I can tell most of them recognize me and if they do not recognize me, they can tell from the linen that I am royalty. As I look behind me I get bows of respect and so does the lady selling me the ticket. So much for being completely normal, but I can still salvage this, I can be a normal person.

“You know you don’t have to give me any special treatment, I want to be treated like a normal regular guy who can do things for himself without the help of ANYONE!”

The attendant smiles as I walk away carrying just a wallet on me but she cannot shake off the sense of irony when Abdul Kabeer (my servant) comes forward covered in luggage, pushing 3 big suitcases on a trolling and 3 smaller bags on his person, one on both shoulders and the last held by his teeth. He checks them all in and then we remain seated, till it is time for our flight, which wasn’t a very long wait.
The stench of sweat of those in the line preceding me is unbelievable, how can a man’s pit smell like the insides of a dead donkey. I will survive, I have to, can’t die like this. Abdul follows behind me. We board the plane and I look to my ticket ‘Seat 14b’, Abdul gets a seat behind me at 15c, just next to the passage and I sit there in between two Arabs who know who I am and pay respects with a greeting. Seated in front of me are two American men, both acting a little, fruity. And right behind me is a kid who from the look of things is about 5 years old with his mother seated to his left, both Americans obviously.
Around the airline people still scurry to their seats and I am hell bent on proving I can be a normal person. Father would be so disappointed and disgusted to see me in the Economy class. The thought of his disappointment plastered a smirk on my face. So far so….

“Hey madam, could you please control your child? He is kicking the back of my seat”
She turns to me in disgust

“Well if you didn’t want to get kicked you wouldn’t sit there. I have rights!”

I shrug

“What do your rights have to do with my seat?”

“I don’t know, maybe if women had rights I would know better”

“JESUS CHRIST, ooh I mean Mohammed, ooh I mean… Shit shit shit..”

I decide to ignore her and not cause a scene, the two men beside me try as much as possible to mind their own business but one turns to me with a cheeky smile and says “women huh?” and I respond with a light nod of my head. I guess I will have to live with the kick in the back every 3 seconds since no one including my incompetent servant seated next to the kid won’t stop him.
I let out a sigh as I try to get comfortable, the situation can still be savaged despite the lack of leg room, small monitors at the back of the seats and the kick in the back. I close my eyes and send myself to my happy place, a beach in Hawaii, I can hear the birds chirping and the waters crashing against the shores ever so lightly and then there a casual conversations I can hear only faintly from the few people around but as two men walk closer and closer to me in their t-shirts and swimming trunk their conversation becomes more vivid.

“So the secret is to not only flush your asshole first, but also the lube I use is…”

“HARAAAM, HARAAM”

I wake up screaming HARAM and realize the conversation was really being carried out by the two men seated in front of me.

“Hostess, I would like to upgrade to a first class seat please”

“Alright, follow me”

Alas I couldn’t make it to take off, I guess I would have to proof to father some other way that I can be a normal person, maybe my skills in the ring will speak for themselves but NOT TODAY. I get to my feet, look around at all the filthy varmints around me, the kid, the guys in front of me and the worst of all my servant Abdul already sleeping with his mouth open, like waiting on me hands and feet is stressful. With a sigh I make my way to the front of the plane, hopefully not as entertaining as this section of the plane


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