Europe knows how to fly... and drink... and vacation

I've been trying to book a flight to Austin, and I am going insane. When Madic and I move down there we will drive down, but apparently it's a good idea to look at apartments before we sign the lease? Yeah, it's a good idea. So we must fly. Which presents two problems: flights are ridiculously expensive and I only have three days free, so there is no wiggle room.
As I was perusing all the different websites for the *best* deals, all I could think about was how I flew from London to Spain for twenty pounds and to Ireland for five. The planes were dinky. The food and drinks were expensive. The flight attendants sold scratch tickets. But it was only a couple of hours, I didn't care what the plane was like as long as it flew and it got me to where I wanted to go.
Sometimes "slumming" it isn't all that bad. Sometimes, it makes it more of an adventure.
When Sie and I flew to Spain last year, it was one of the best flights I had ever been on. We flew EasyJet at nine am. At eight thirty when we all began to board the plane, we realized we were the only sober ones on the flight. We also realized we were the only two passengers under 30 years old.
About twenty middle aged men in pink polos and navy blazers were singing, throwing back beers, and flirting with the stewardess. They took over the rear of the cabin and as soon as we were in the air, never returned to their seats. There was dancing, ordering of champagne, and buying the whole plane drinks.
In the row ahead of us were three women in their late seventies. One had the classic blue hair, one was holding on to her "original" hair color for as long as possible, and the other had bright white hair. They were dressed in bright colors, wore bright red lipstick, and were rocking over sized sunnies. As soon as they sat down they ordered a bottle of champagne each (they were the liter bottles). And quickly ordered another round.
In celebration of our own little vacation, Sie and I ordered some champagne as well, and then of course the pink polo brigade bought us another round. We made friends with everyone on the plane. The women ahead of us had been friends for fifty-five years, and were taking a little vacation together. Sie and I were in awe. We hoped we would turn out just like these women.
We never really figured out who the pink polo brigade were. The logo on their jackets were made up. They had just decided, if they were going to travel together they might as well wear matching polos and jackets. We got a different story from each guy we talked to.
By the time we arrived and met up with our boys (who were coming from Barcelona) we were happily fuddled and ready to start our little vacation (which ended with this...)

 

Now wouldn't life just be so much better if we had EasyJet in the states?