Hmmmm...
an excerpt

Brandon Lang hated airports. They were almost always filled with the pandemonium of people rushing everywhere, trying to make their flights at the last-minute or searching for luggage. Security guards were everywhere, keeping an eye out for suspicious individuals (i.e. the hot babe at the Starbucks counter). As he stood in the line near Gate Eight of Los Angeles International Airport, he became annoyed. The attendant at the front who was supposed to be handing out boarding passes was trying to piece together a conversation with an elderly Latino lady. From the looks of it, it didn’t seem that any language barriers were being successfully broken. My God, Brandon thought to himself. I knew I should have printed one out.
Twenty minutes passed before he finally made it to the head of the line.
“Thank you Mr. Lang and have a great flight,” said the attendant as she handed Brandon back his identification along with his boarding pass. Her cheery tone disgusted him. She didn’t care if he had a good flight. She was just some naïve robot who was programmed with an internal artificial intelligence that was supposed to display hospitality. A real life Barbie, right down to the blond hair and silicon breasts.
Brandon walked toward the boarding gate and walked down the long terminal. Once he got on board he was immediately greeted by the pilots and flight attendants. He gave a nod of acknowledgement before walking up the aisle toward seat 9A. Brandon had always flown first class as long as he could remember. He had always been the “golden boy”, and had had everything given to him. His facial features had not diminished any since his high school graduation five years earlier. If possible they had become even more radiant, contributing more greatly to the “pretty boy” stereotype he had faced all his life.
He located his seat and deposited his carry-on bag in the compartment overhead. The plane was filling with people. Brandon could hear what he thought were the sounds of elementary school kids chattering nonstop back in coach. Field Trips, he thought disgustedly. Need to give every last one of them a Benadryl, or a muzzle.
Brandon took his seat and waited patiently for the plane to depart. At least, he was near a window. And, as always, first class did not have to deal with the cramped quarters of coach. As Brandon picked up a magazine from the back of the seat in front of him, a woman who had just gotten on the plane caught his eye. Actually, she caught more than his eye.
She was arguably one of the biggest girls Brandon had ever seen. She towered near the brink of six feet, and had wavy black hair that fell down the middle of her back. Brandon had no clue how big she actually was, but guessed that some offensive lineman in the NFL would be envious.