I LOVE the French

I get to compartment 12, seat 41, sit down, and frown. I turn to look at my fellow passengers, but for some reason they don't sense anything amiss. I face forward. I get up, check the seat number again, and sit back down. I stand back up, check the compartment to the rear. Yeah...that's definitely compartment 13. I sit back down. I look around. I get back up and look at the compartment ahead. Yeah...that's definitely compartment 11. I fidget. Now my fellow passengers sense my unease, and make occasional nervous glances in my direction.

A stewardess enters with the drink tray. She makes her way up the asile and eventually reaches me and seat 41.
¨Can I get you anything?¨
¨Um...yeah actually I think I'm in the wrong seat. Could you tell me where I'm supposed to be?¨
She looks at my ticket. ¨Zis ees your seat.¨
¨That's not possible. Are you sure?¨
She smiles. ¨Why ees dat not possible?¨
¨Because I have a student ticket and this is first class.¨
She looks at my ticket again, shrugs, and hands it back to me. ¨Vould you like something to drink?¨
¨Uh...yeah, Coke light. Thanks.¨
¨Some cake as well vith dat?¨

Why not.

Lots of people rode first class on a train today. But there is not a person out there who enjoyed it more than me.