You’ve already taken away my peanuts and charged me for a checked bag—think you’re gonna bleed me a little more by cranking the air conditioning to Venezuelan-overnight-bus levels and charging $8 for one of those shitty blue blankets?
Well, I’m not skerd. I’ll make a hobo blanket out of magazines.
You’ve obviously underestimated my industrious frugality and lack of shame. Maybe next I’ll bring a can of beans and a hot plate, and make my own in-flight meal.