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And You Complain About Your $3 Bag of Trail Mix

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courtesy Telegraph (UK)
"It's your hamster, Richard. It's your hamster in the box and it's not breathing."
Do you remember the old days, when airplane travelers were always guaranteed free food, no matter how short the flight? Do you remember those tiny bags of honey-roasted peanuts that were impossible to open? Do you remember being offered a choice of entree: gray beef or rubber chicken? But they gave you a knife and a fork to dissect it. And the dessert! Who could forget that sponge cake that really did taste like a sponge? Astounding!

These days, of course, airplane food is but a distant memory. (Though sometimes a joyful one: I recall, on a trip to California, how my parents oh-so-slyly requested the Kosher meal because they had heard, via the Jewish Conspiracy Network, that it tasted better. Instead they got stuffed cabbage. Oh, how my sister and I laughed!)

Sometimes, particularly when I have to pay $7 for a cardboard sandwich at the airport, the lack of food on airplanes irks me. But then I read things like this delightful complaint letter to Sir Richard Branson, head of Virgin Atlantic Airlines, and feel sort of grateful.

But also sort of sorry that I never wrote anything this funny when I still had the chance. Especially since Branson just offered this guy a job.

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