I Just Flew Virgin Atlantic Upper Class and 1 Thing Made Me Want to Scream (It Was Richard Branson's Fault) More

Absurdly Driven looks at the world of business with a skeptical eye and a firmly rooted tongue in cheek. She saw me coming. I arrived at London's Heathrow Airport after an arduous trip and a woman with a kindly face was holding a sign that read: "Ask Me About Upgrades." How did she know that I and my girlfriend were tired and desperate for peace, quiet and, perhaps, a touch of pampering? And this Virgin Atlantic employee was so pleasant, without being gushing. Before I knew it, I'd taken her up on her two-for-one offer and we were in what Virgin calls Upper Class. If you've never ventured into this part of the plane, the seats are pods, placed at 45 degrees to the fuselage. Romantic, it isn't.