Oh, where has the time flown? Remember when you were “missin’ out bro” if you hadn’t joined the Mile-High Club with a hot girl? Well, now you’re probably an idiot or an asshole if you do.
For those of you who don’t know, the Mile-High Club is the fraternal group of nymphomaniacs who never gather, except with one (two, if you’re completely nuts) prospective sex partner for a shoe box-sized session of mid-flight fornication. Back in the day, people would romanticize meeting a stranger (or pretending to be strangers) and then going to the bathroom for some light humping. But thanks to our overtly politically correct society, chronic dehydration (boner killers!), social media and the thunderous liabilities accrued by United Airlines, we’re finding that joining the Mile-High Club is no longer an easy task, or even a privilege, much these days.
Join us for an honest account of what is more likely to happen, should you open the Pandora’s Box of mile-high sex amongst the stars, since any box is bigger than those bathrooms. We promise at least two (count ’em, two!) Con Air references herein.