It has long been a fantasy of mine to become a member of the mile-high club, and I finally have a willing girlfriend. But I’m worried I was born in the wrong era, what with overbooked flights, air marshals and hyper-vigilant flight attendants conspiring against aerial quickies. Any tips on how to join?—G.M., Ames, Iowa
You could blow 30 grand on a couple of private first-class suites, complete with doors and lie-flat seats, on an Emirates flight and join the club that way. But that’s too easy. If you’re living the economy life, book a long-haul red-eye and time your visit to the bathroom during that lull when the lights are dim, other passengers are asleep and the flight attendants are on break. You’ll have only a few minutes in that cramped and stinky bathroom, so—as stealthily as possible—get your libidos up to speed beforehand underneath a blanket in your seats.
This question is from the April 2015 issue of Playboy. To read the rest of this Advisor column, click here.
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