You know about the “Mile-High Club,” that salty euphemism for people who’ve had sex in flight, right? Well, if you’re not quite that adventurous, but still are seeking a unique time aloft, here’s a PG-rated idea: Dinner in the Sky.
Dinner in the Sky happens 150 feet above the ground. You (and up to 21 fellow non-acrophobic chowhounds) plus table and wait staff are hoisted via a gigantic crane for a fine dining experience complete with a rotating view.
Dinner in the Sky, or DITS as I like to call it, is the creation of a pair of Belgium entrepreneurs with a background in PR and amusement park installations, who in 2006 came up with the idea of creating a “flying” dinner table.
Since then, DITS has soared the globe, serving up tasty dishes and experiences for well-heeled and strong-stomached epicures.
DITS dinners are cooked up by a veritable who’s who of celebrity chefs. At least that what the DITS website proclaims. I cannot personally attest to the acclaim of the list. I’m no gourmand. I’m a hot dog n’ beans gal myself or if I’m living wild, pastrami and chopped liver, safely delivery at a table on the ground at NYC’s 2nd Avenue Deli.
And the team behind DITS isn’t just serving up dinners, lunches, brunches, and breakfasts, but also marriages, concerts, Santas, lounges — even marriages in the sky!
Now the question of who signs up for DITS experiences is intriguing. Who finds the idea of dining — or lounging or marrying OR ANYTHING —while dangling 150 feet from a crane fun, tasty or romantic?
Obviously, people with a unique sense of adventure. Obviously, people with some cash to burn since dinner runs about $3,750 per person.
I venture to guess DITS appeals to a slightly younger demographic. I could be wrong. But middle-aged muddlers like me generally prefer keeping our buniony-feet and buns firmly on terra firma.
We’re not anti-adventures, but dining with toes a-dangling and birdies a-whizzing by just doesn’t seem appetizing!
Yet, DITS disagrees with my armchair analysis. According to the website, success came “thanks to the two golden words guiding all our activities: Exclusivity and Safety.”
Yet, height-phobic me sees the idea of high-altitude open-air dining as an opportunity ripe for peril.
What happens if a flock of birds takes a fancy to a fancy appetizer course of marinated bacon-wrapped scallops and swoops down for a beakful?
What if the babysitter calls and your hands, slippery from buttery lobster tails, lose their grip on your cell phone? Surely a cell phone must qualify as a lethal weapon as it accelerates ever faster downward?
And, in these COVID-y times, how does one socially distance at a seat-belted DITS repast? Is there a polite way to say “Please pass the salt and get the Hell six feet away from me, mon cheri?”
Well, while I’ll pass on DITS, if you’re hungry for still more DITS details, here are a few from the website:
There’s a per diner weight limit — 286.6 pounds.
Pregnant women up to 30 weeks can hop on board — with a doctor’s OK.
The “table” does make several 360-degree rotations during the course of the meal. (So, that’s fun … I guess.)
There are no bathroom facilities onboard.
And in answer to a question I was keenly interested in, and I quote both the Q & A:
“What if I’m scared when I’m upstairs or I want to get down?
If you do not feel well during the event, the platform goes down in less than 3 minutes. Once the diner is down, you will not be able to go back up and in these cases, no refund will be applied.”
My advice if you go: hold on to your cell phone and the contents of your stomach! And, no onboard fighting! You probably cannot change seats.
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And finally, returning to the topic of Mile-High Club: apparently, there is now an official Mile-High Club! Apparently, membership does have privileges. A-hum! And for those of you wondering, the answer is no. Absolutely No. Handsome Hubby and I don’t belong!
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2020/10/Nosebleed-shot-copy.png393575Karenhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2017/04/logo.svgKaren2020-10-14 08:01:442020-10-14 11:12:42Not Up for the Mile-High Club? Still …
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