The Spice of Life: Rethinking Your Mile High Club Hijinks

By Josie Brown

No doubt about it, since the creation of Homeland Security, membership to the Mile High Club—those frequent flyers unable to control their irrational impulses to have sex while some 30,000 feet over the earth’s surface—has plummeted. Back in the day, an ecstatic moan from the lavatory, a rocking row, or the errant shoe in the aisle raised knowing eyebrows from fellow passengers. Today it will have some beefy U.S. Marshal handcuffing you and perp-walking you off the plane. (Granted, the sadist in you may get a kick out of such humiliation, but your new status—terrorist pin-up girl—will certainly put a crimp in your future travel plans…)

It’s not just under(the)cover antics that draw the suspicions of nervous, ever-vigilant flight attendants. Some have become fashion police, too. Remember when San Diego coed, Kyla Ebbert, was marched off a Southwest plane for wearing a skirt deemed too short by one flight attendant? It wasn’t as if Ebbert had planned to play Basic Instinct peek-a-boo with the other passengers. Heck, these days, airline rows are only 31 inches deep. To sneak a peek, a voyeur would have to be Cirque du Soliel contortionist.

Ironically, she’d worn the same outfit on a previous Southwest flight—and received a crewmember’s compliment. I’m guessing that employee was a holdover from the coffee-tea-or-me era. Back then, short-shorts and micro-minis uniforms for flight attendants took passengers’ minds off any sudden dips in cabin pressure.

For sure, earning your MHC frequent flyer points have gotten tougher, since you can no longer…

Commandeer the Front Cabin Lavatory for Vertical Sex
It’s to close to the cockpit for comfort.

Solution: Settle for a quickie in the jetway, where passengers stand front-to-back anyway like sardines, as the slowpokes find their seats on the plane.

Travel with KY Warming Lubricant
Its 5-ounce container marks it as a terrorist tool, as opposed to a sex enhancer.

Solution: Substitute the security-friendly KY Silky Vaginal Moisturizer. At 2.5 ounces, it will pass muster.

Give Your Lover a Lap Dance
Only children under the age of two are allowed to share seats with an adult.

Solution: This is strictly a night maneuver, meant for dimmed cabin lighting, sparse aft cabin occupancy, and best of all, a red-eye flight.

Ask the Pilot: “Hey, Can I See Your Cock…pit?” 
The most virile men on-board are now hermetically sealed away from their most admiring fans. Come-hither knocks on the cockpit doors will have you slammed against the beverage cart and cattle-prodded into submission by the stewardatrix. (Then again, one gal’s nightmare is a different woman’s dream come true…)

Solution, sort of: Get a job as flight attendant. Preferrably in France. This buxom fille did. And as you can see in this video, it gave her unparalleled cockpit access–and the wherewithal to lose her inhibitions. (Not to mention her blouse.)

Alas, MHC membership no longer has its privileges. But if you should decide to tender your resignation, remember: there is always Amtrak. Love on the rails means never having to create your own locomotion.

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Josie Brown, SMW’s relationship editor, is the author of two snarky Hollywood novels: Impossibly Tongue-Tied, and True Hollywood Lies. She is also co-author, along with her husband Martin, of Marriage Confidential: 102 Honest Answers to the Question Every Husband Wants to Ask, and Every Wife Needs to Know.