Plane hate

Generator sentence:: Two seats were vacant.

The snack was excellent. Coffee exceptional. Wine extraordinary. The window on my left is clean. The curtains smelled really nice. Plenty of room for my large feet. An older lady behind me, a gentleman on my right over the aisle. It was still morning. Blue skies, sunshine, puffy clouds. What bothered me was the fact that I did not remember how I got here. I am a writer, I never travel by plane. Planes are expensive, unreliable, and destroy the planet. Planes are constantly being attacked, they fall, they break down, they go missing. As far as I remembered I wrote about it. Commentaries, magazine articles, books, and even obituaries. You could say that I was somewhat of an expert. Airlines hated me, I was on most of their passenger banlists. Did I really care? Bike, bus, train, car sharing, even walking... But the red wine was really excellent. Oh, shit, I spilled on my white shirt. Wait, a white shirt? I hated white shirts. Black pants? Black jacket? I had none of that...maybe that wedding suit but that definitely was not it. What is going on?

The small door in front of me opened and a young beautiful lady walked out.

"Sir? You better return to the cockpit, there is a storm of the Atlantic just ahead of us. Not exactly sure what I am supposed to do, but I watched the autopilot light very carefully."

I had a second look at the small room full of blinking lights. The two seats were vacant. I was holding a card in my hand. Now let's see about your next article.