I hadn’t pulled an academic all-nighter since sophomore year of undergrad, but in the churning fray of the end of Fall semester, on the night of the 22nd of December, well into the 23rd, somehow found myself up all night feverishly typing to finish two lab biology lab reports, and rewrite another. Let me say, too, that all-nighters sucked then, and they still blow as much as now. Perhaps they were a bit better sophomore year, when plied with dining hall pizza, and a can of Coke could keep me awake for hours, and I hadn’t become the relentless caffeine addict I am today. But, I digress.

At around 7.00am, I left for the airport, with my work still unfinished. I was still typing on the Long Island Rail Road to JFK, and typing out calculations on the AirTrain, and with about 40 minutes to go before boarding of my Virgin America flight to San Francisco, I was slumped in a seat in the AirTrain station, trying to find a wireless network, at which I ultimately succeeded, to the tune of $4.95, to e-mail all my documents to my lab partner, who, bless her soul, said she would print and hand in my labs before she left.

So, suffice it to say, I was in rough shape when I finally arrived at Terminal Four at JFK to catch my Virgin America flight to San Francisco. Though I had flown out of Terminal Four at JFK a few times before, in my haze from final exams, I was utterly stymied at the layout, and at first, couldn’t figure out where to go, milling about like an idiot on the arrivals level, until some brilliant idea entered my head that I should look up to find a sign that indicated the location of check-in. Infinitely intelligent. I climbed an escalator, now with just about 30 minutes remaining before my flight, and somehow found the Virgin America check-in area, nestled in a corner, somewhat away from the main ticket counters. I clumsily strode to an automated check-in machine, and, after trying four or five cards in my wallet to attempt to search for my reservation, the machine and I both gave up, and I headed to a ticket counter to have my boarding pass printed. “They just began boarding,” the Virgin America (VX) rep said. Fantastic, I thought. Now, I found myself in true danger of missing the flight, which only heightened my sense of urgency because I had read that VX has some sort of RyanAir type fascist regulations on missed flights that conveniently escapes their contract of carriage on their website, that states that missed flights require a ticket repurchase. Hey: I hadn’t caught a flight to San Francisco on an airline other than dear United in a few ice ages. I could navigate through the Terminal 7 at JFK drugged on chloroform. Please forgive my neophyte behavior in Terminal 4.

Security, of course, at Terminal Four, stretched to Massapequa. The TSA, per custom, had too few lines open, for too many passengers, but of course, still managed to employ a healthy glut of people pacing the line barking out mindless reminders and orders that I couldn’t carry an X-Box through the metal detector and that babies shouldn’t be placed on the conveyor belt. Here’s an idea, TSA: Why don’t you remove your carnival barkers that pace the lines of the traveling public shrieking orders and “helpful” suggestions to which everyone has already inured themselves, and use them to staff an additional screening line? I know we’ll remove that air of TSA authority and the sense of fear in the passengers that they will be indefinitely detained if their liquids are not held by a Ziploc bag, but, hey, it might move things along.

I made it through security, bleary eyed, and positively a mess, as an automated final boarding call announcement played through the terminal that the tug driver’s foot was itching to stomp the gas pedal and move the Airbus A319 away from the gate, stranding me at JFK until next semester. I loped through the terminal, like a horse with a broken leg: no shoes on my feet, belt slung over my shoulders, trying, fruitlessly, to keep my pants about my waste with one arm, while a tugged my rollerboard with another. With a few moments, I made it to the gate, composed myself to the point where I didn’t look like a deranged, escaped convict from Sing Sing, and handed my boarding pass to the gate agent. Without a word (where were the ultra-friendly Virgin America personnel about which I heard so much? That was downright United-esque, there), I snaked down the long jetway, chuckling to myself that the last time I had used on of these long gates in Terminal Four was to board Singapore Airlines flight 25 to Frankfurt on an international award ticket. I made it aboard “Let There be Flight” (how cool is that?” with minutes to go, found room for my carryon, and plunked myself down in the seat.

Sadly, I barely stayed awake long enough to record some initial impressions of the airline. First, immediately, and aesthetically, the mood lighting is quite nice. Gimmicky, yes, and probably unnecessary, but makes for a much nicer boarding as opposed to some airplanes bleakly lit by old fluorescent lights that render the cabin as friendly as a police interrogation room.  The purser was a young guy with a goatee, probably late 20s (as in, he was probably 28, or so, not late 20s, as in the 1920s, the decade in which many of the United pursers were born). He wasn’t wearing a tie, which immediately promoted a welcoming, relaxed atmosphere on board. Nor did he bombard the airplane with the threatening announcements I hear so often on United, cautioning people Auntie Marge’s gift from Crate and Barrel, if it doesn’t fit under the seat, will summarily be chucked from the airplane, and berating people not to store their laptops in the seatback pockets. Moreover, a Chris Cornell (he of the band Soundgarden) played in the background. Now, I understand VX probably took a kickback of sorts to promote Chris Cornell’s new album, but coming from United, and airline so stodgy and out-of-date that they most likely consider any music with a drum the work of dirty hippies and what’s poisoning the teenagers of America with their swinging hips, malt liquor, and crass attitudes, the music selection was downright progressive. The pilot introduced himself as the captain, but then made sure to mention that his “teammate” (love it!) was also a captain, and would be flying the leg from Las Vegas to San Francisco (yeah, I found out the hard way that this airplane would make a stop in Las Vegas, and wasn’t a nonstop flight. Oops!) The captain also made a Star Trek joke in relation to his teammate’s appearance, which, I am (very) pleased to say, I didn’t get.

Fighting to stay awake, and feeling guilty that I could soon pass out, but my lab partner had to make a four hour drive to Vermont later in the day, after also pulling an all nighter, we pushed off the gate. The tug pushed us backwards, as is usually the custom, then, drove us forward, a bit, then, decided, what the hell, to push us backwards once again. The famous Virgin America safety video played, yup, the actually creative safety video with the sarcastic, exasperated narrator and the grotesque animation, prompting more than a few laughs from the passengers. I love the safety video. Not only is it a hallmark of creativity in the constantly uptight world of aviation (the only safety video that comes close in terms of hilarity is the Austrian Airlines safety video, with the little circa-1992 computer graphics man running into a sign at the beginning of the video, and then missing his flight at the end). Again, like most of the legacy carriers, Virgin America doesn’t waste their time with the excessively formal crap and platitudes of “it’s our pleasure to have you aboard,” which is immediately negated by the scowling flight attendants.

At that point, I fell asleep. Usually, I stay awake during taxi and takeoff to get a peek at the fantastic ramp and runway action, but couldn’t make it. I awoke upon descent into Las Vegas.

With a 45-minute early arrival time in to LAS, an ultra-cool gate agent boarded the flight, and made the announcement that what was going to be a direct flight with the through pax staying aboard while the passengers originating at LAS boarded, everyone could deplane, and go play the slots in the terminal. He was my kind of personality – gregarious, sarcastic, and just at touch edgy, making sure to remind us that he would take any items left in the airplane, and pawn then for Christmas money, and that he would love us forever if made sure to remove all of our carryons when deplaning. Some would call these types of announcements “unprofessional,” but, simply, I say, get with the times. Why not bring a little creativity to an uptight world?

The gate agent’s fun continued with the reboarding announcements, making sure to remind of us of the A through F lettered boarding order, and that another gate agent would tackle us if we attempted to board out of order (hilarious!). After boarding each section, A through F, the gate provided a funny reminder of something about Virgin America with each letter, such as “C – Can you believe that Virgin America is the only airline worldwide to offer free wireless on every airplane until January 15th?” I’ll take it. Simply, it was wonderful to see a group of gate agents enjoying work, enjoying making passengers laugh, and upending the excessive formalities promoted by so many of the legacy carriers. The problem seems to be, I think, that legacy carriers are so bent on trying to preserve the glamor of air travel in its heyday – but, realizing that goal is absolutely and inconceivably impossible in today’s day and age of cruddy service, dirty planes, and angry employees, realize the only way to try to appear glamorous is to spackle their announcements with superfluously formal and calculated language, that makes it appear as if each announcement is embossed in a gold, medieval script on an invitation made of heavy cardstock, and sealed in a vellum envelope. Nope, I contend. It just appears archaic and anachronistic in today’s day and age. Air travel isn’t glamorous, and sure as hell ain’t formal (okay, we do need to do something about people whose traveling outfit is jean shorts, Tevas, and a size XXXXXL Big Dogs t-shirt, or trashy velour sweatsuit with exposed thong – mmmm!), but let’s bring the announcements up to modernity. Spice in a bit of slang, jargon, a few laughs, a few zingers, some self effacing humor, and wow – suddenly, the mood is about lighter, people are less angry, and wow – sweet Jesus forbids – someone actually smiles. It’s not unprofessional. It’s human.

I re-boarded the flight for SFO, and before passing out, again (hey – I had slept four hours in the last 35, at that point), managed to remark that the purser made an announcement encouraging passengers to ring their call button if they needed help stowing luggage – “that’s what we’re here for.” Call me cynical or jaded – but – I couldn’t believe it. Flight attendants actually wanting to help with baggage? Again, forgive me, but I’m used to sour-faced flight attendants folding their arms across their polyester uniforms and making some poor joke about not helping lift a bag so as to not require wrist surgery in the future. As well, in keeping with the theme of humanity on VX, Red, the in flight entertainment system installed at each seat, displays a little announcement encouraging people to lightly and considerately tap the screen when making a selection, so as to not disturb the passenger sitting in front of you. How nice. People wrenching my headrest or grabbing my seat and shaking with ferocity of an 8.0 earthquake to exit the row is perhaps my number of annoyance during flying.

After a short flight, we made a feather-light landing on 28-Right at SFO. I immediately noticed the odd feeling of turning off the runway much earlier than usual, and heading to the international terminal. Normally, United airplanes turn off the runway much later, as they head to Terminal 3. Home, once again.

I admit my review of Virgin America is a bit flawed because, well, I couldn’t stay awake, but I took away a favorable impression. Did it blow me away? Not really. I’d have to say that, yes, I was actually blown away by JetBlue the first time I flew them across the country, with their funny flight attendants, IFE, and their kick-ass catch phrase, “Hope you enjoy the experience.” I absolutely loved seeing a bit of humanity and humor in airline employees, reminding me that, yes, in terms of attitude and human dignity, Southwest, JetBlue, and Virgin America are the best airlines this country has. I’ll make a fuller report of aspects such as Red, the in-flight entertainment system on the way home. But, seat pitch, in economy was not terrible at all, though I may be a bit biased, because I really don’t mind traveling in economy, at all.

Hmmm, though – will I fly Virgin America again? Well, unless price truly reigns supreme, I’m not sure. I really missed earning Star Alliance miles for my flights. I guess I’m too much of a frequent flyer miles whore/junkie, and yes, would rather put up with United’s (often) poor service, caustic cabin crew, and fake formalities, just to earn miles. I like my crazy Star Alliance trips too much. I don’t need first class, someone to address me by name, and a prison-grade first class meal, but, like a junkie willing to steal side mirrors off a car to sell them for the money to buy another rock, I’ll gladly pay out for the opportunity to earn miles. I’ll miss the fun and humanity, but, I need the miles. Do I have to love United? No. Does it make me an apologist? No. Does it make me a tool to fly an airline I don’t really like just for the miles? Probably. But, simply – award redemptions and bonus miles are just too sweet.

Oh, and my lab partner made it Vermont, without even taking nap. A helluva girl, and much stronger than I.