Vance pressed the Call button. A red-headed flight attendant walked up the aisle, depressed the Call button, and asked who needed help.
“Angie,” Vance said reading her name tag, “Angie, curious, why the veil between First Class and Economy, between us and them?”
Angie turned around and knew right where to look.
“You’ve got the distinction right, sir, us and them. They’re better than you. They pay a lot more money to be up there. They don’t want to associate with you back here. It’s quieter there with an extra layer between the proles and plebes? It’s also where the business class are able to participate in nefarious activities while airborne. Which excuse do you like or maybe you like all of them?”
“I actually like the last one the best. Sounds intriguing. What kind of nefarious activities are we talking about?” Vance asked.
“Ah, sorry, sir, you’ll have to upgrade to find that out. That’s why they dish out the big bucks. That, and because they can.”
“By your answer, I take it you’ve been asked that question a lot.”
“Every flight for the past 17 years, unless I was up there,” said Angie. “And everyone chooses the last excuse just like you. Adds to the mystique. I work that section at least weekly and…oh, why am I telling you all of this?”
“Because you’ve never told anyone and just dying to divulge all those secrets?”
“Perhaps. But the main reasons – between you and me…” she paused and looked around at all the others who were leaning into hear. “Mainly they have expendable income and they enjoy the comfort.”
“And the secrets?”
“Oh none,” she said. “Probably none.”
Ah...those secrets. (And they'll remain "secret", ya know.)