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We spent the night sailing around the Persian Gulf, holding hands and munching on salmon tartare, lobster and caviar.This romantic evening with the handsome billionaire was one of many glamorous dates I had during my 10-year tenure as a Virgin Airlines flight attendant.
His wings ceremony was epic — held at Sir Richard Branson’s mansion in Cambridge.One drunken night, I spotted a rugby team partying at a long table.I jumped on it and knocked back their drinks one by one.And when the lights are dimmed on overnight flights, I’d see randy passengers masturbating while everyone else around them slept.Then there was the couple in the throes of passion who ran around upper-class buck naked.I climbed on top of him while he was flying and sealed the deal.
We had fun together, but my relationship with Jonathan didn’t last.
It was a lot to put up with, especially for my meager starting salary of 12,000 pounds (about $19,000) for my 1,000 flying hours a year. From the Caribbean to South Africa, I had a guy at every port.
My favorite spot in Barbados was this club full of hot guys.
Later that night, back in my colleague’s hotel room, the hot tub collapsed because we had invited too many rugby players to join in the fun.
But nothing beats the Inter Continental in Johannesburg, where the altitude is 6,000 feet and the booze goes straight to your head.
I stayed up for 24 hours, wired on Red Bull and vodkas.