WITH
MOST
MAJOR
airlines
on
the
brink
of
bankruptcy
and
theme
airlines
sprouting
up
like
mushrooms,
I’ve
been
peddling
to
investors
the
idea
of
a
gay
airline.
Here’s
my
blueprint.
First,
we’d
need
a
name
and
tag
line
reflecting
the
passion
of
the
airline’s
patrons.
My
recommendation:
“Air
Head.
Our
Service
Will
Blow
You
Away.”
The
changes
would
be
noticeable
right
away,
starting
with
on-time
departures.
There
wouldn’t
be
any,
for
starters.
All
that
rushing
around
to
get
to
the
gate
on
time?
Gone.
The
estimated
time
of
departure
would
refer
to
the
approximate
time
the
pilots
would
be
getting
out
of
the
shower.
Air
Head,
like
its
customers,
would
be
fashionably
late.
The
seat
selection
process
would
change,
too.
It
wouldn’t
be
about
window
or
aisle
as
much
as
hot
or
not.
Air
Head’s
Web
site
would
show
photos
of
booked
passengers
so
you
can
make
seat
selections
based
on
their
looks.
That
way
you’d
up
your
chances
for
a
lay-over.
SECURITY
GUARDS
WOULD
be
renamed
“social
security
guards”
to
reflect
the
gregarious
nature
of
the
airline’s
passengers.
They’d
frisk
us,
then
put
their
hands
against
the
wall
and
say,
“Your
turn.”
No
reason
to
ask
if
there’s
a
pistol
in
their
pocket
or
if
they’re
just
happy
to
see
you.
The
answer
is
yes.
Screeners
at
the
X-ray
machine
would
be
trained
as
club
doormen
instead.
They’d
be
dressed
in
black,
wear
earpieces
and
let
you
through
the
velvet
rope
once
they
see
your
name
on
the
list.
We’d
spice
up
the
in-flight
magazines,
too.
Aisle
after
aisle,
you’d
hear
flight
attendants
ask,
“Excuse
me
sir,
would
you
like
to
read
Time,
Newsweek
or
Inches?”
And
enough
with
the
Muzac.
How
about
six
channels
of
head-banging
house
music?
Giant
stereo
speakers
would
line
the
exit
doors
in
case
the
understandable
need
to
look
down
on
people
as
you
dance
takes
over.
Of
course,
you
couldn’t
have
that
kind
of
music
without
mile-high
party
favors.
That’s
why
we’d
introduce
a
complimentary
“SkyBump.”
It
would
add
another
36,000
feet
to
your
high.
You
could
do
your
Skybumps
in
peace,
too,
because
there’d
be
an
in-flight
back
room.
Naturally,
it
would
be
pitch-black
with
no
seats
and
grubby
walls.
And
if
enough
passengers
partake,
well,
then
every
Air
Head
jet,
from
the
large
757’s
to
the
gigantic
airbuses
would
be
considered
“puddle
jumpers.”
WE’D
ALSO
UPDATE
the
emergency
exit
instructions.
Superbly
choreographed
evacuation
strategies
will
make
you
hope
for
a
mid-flight
engine
failure
to
try
out
the
moves.
Air
Head
would
have
the
most
politically
correct
lavatories
on
the
planet.
There’d
be
four:
male,
female,
male-to-female
and
female-to-male.
Given
the
amount
of
time
gay
men
would
spend
looking
at
themselves
in
the
mirror,
the
signs
on
the
lavatories
wouldn’t
say
“Occupied.”
They’d
say
“Preoccupied.”
I
know
I
don’t
need
to
say
this,
but
flight
attendant
uniforms
would
be
so
skimpy
you
could
fax
them
into
the
plane.
For
once,
let
the
customer
be
the
one
to
say,
“No
shirt,
no
service!”
One
of
the
great
innovations
I’d
bring
to
the
market
is
a
software
program
allowing
you
to
know
more
about
the
plane’s
crew.
Every
seat
would
be
equipped
with
online
profiles
of
the
flight
staff.
No
point
in
hitting
on
them
if
they’re
hitched
—
or
worse
—
straight.
We
could
have
a
“hot
or
not”
button
beside
each
profile
and
vote
the
losers
off
the
plane,
to
be
replaced
with
cuter
stewards
at
the
next
stop.
Air
Head
would
be
the
first
airline
to
prohibit
carry-ons.
No,
not
suitcases.
Rants
from
the
people
sitting
next
to
you.
Some
people
just
carry
on
forever
if
you
don’t
bury
your
head
in
a
book
and
pretend
not
to
hear
them.
I’ve
shopped
the
concept
to
Wall
Street
with
no
luck.
They
all
have
the
same
objection:
The
FAA
does
not
allow
mirrors
except
in
the
bathroom.
“For
heaven’s
sakes,”
one
investor
at
a
high-flying
firm
told
me,
“You
can’t
have
a
gay
airline
without
mirrors
glued
to
the
back
of
every
chair!”
