There’s no TSA line. There’s no liquids quota. There is a valet who greets you curbside and will have the car’s seat warmers going upon your return. Also, chocolate-chip cookies. Last time, you brought the kids, and wasn’t it awesome when the flight attendants greeted them with that witch-and-wizard script for the trip to Harry Potter World? Next time, you’ll bring the dog and the crew will let her have the run of the cabin.
This time, it’s just you. So what’ll it be—Five Guys or Capital Grille’s rib eye? The rib eye. Definitely. Wait—those look like storm clouds. Better give one of the staff meteorologists a call about the weather in Miami. You need to get all 18 holes in tomorrow, before the round with Dustin Johnson. That’s why you fly NetJets, after all. Yeah, it starts at $150,000 for 25 hours in the air, but the membership gets you golf outings with PGA stars and crystal wine goblets with dinner. If only you hadn’t missed the private Katy Perry concert. The kids still won’t let you forget it.
This article appears in the November 2016 issue of Washingtonian.