Like a G6 (or 900 Falcon).

Among the many things that do not suck in life: flying private.

Friday night was my first, and in all likelihood, last experience of flying on a private plane.  But, it definitely does not suck.

 I'm on record as saying that I like airports.  And, I do.  But, you know all the things that can be annoying or stressful about flying? They simply do not exist when you fly privately.  Traffic making you late?  Doesn't matter.  So long as you are with the person who owns (or, at least is paying for) the plane, it is not leaving without you no matter how late you are.  Security makes you take off shoes, belts, jackets and laptops (potentially allowing for the old switcheroo)?  No worries.  There is none of that.  You just drop off your luggage like a gate check and walk up the stairs on to the plane.

The aforementioned stairs up the plane.

Equipped eight leather captain's chairs and two couches, the plane could comfortably sit fourteen.  There were eight of us on the flight.  Before you ask, yes, there were snacks and drinks possible (bottles of wine, mini-bar sized liquor, and beer, along with water and sodas).  No, I did not partake beyond a water and a banana. These were my views for most of the ride:

Straight ahead into the pilot's world.

Can't beat that out the window.

A mere hour and a half later, we landed at Midway, ready to be whisked home via car service.  Mo' money, mo' problems, sure, but travelling isn't one.