Virgin Airlines is teaming up with Entourage to promote the fifth season of Vince & Co living out every frat boy’s circle-jerk fantasy: as an out-of-work actor with a rich friend.
Turtles of the world, this is your chance! Break out the striped shirt and sign up to fly from the mean streets of Queens to an STD-ridden mecca for trashy ex-pornstars in the style you always wanted but never deserved.
For a mere $2218 (before taxes and fees), said frat boys — er, frat men — can purchase a first-class round-trip ticket from JFK to Las Vegas, including the full Entourage experience:
Hot flight attendants to convince that your inner-circle status means they should invite you for a little one-on-one time in the bathroom? (She has a great spec script to send you) Check!
In-flight TVs playing the new season of Entourage to inspire your big-spender tips? Check!
Deposition in a high-profile assault investigation? Nope, gotta bring that yourself.
Champagne, Godiva truffles, eye mask, and Kiehl’s products to ensure that your Entourage fantasy lifestyle is a little bit gay? Check!
What, you were expecting Vodka Redbulls and a potent sack of medical marijuana topped off with a gift card to Best Buy? Puh-leeze, this is Virgin, after all. They’ve got class. Totally. Gay. Class.
Despite the meaningless accessorization and vague metrosexuality of the promotion, it’s probably going to be a great publicity stunt. At least, unless one of the douchebags overdoses on coke in the bathroom while trying to take a stewardess from behind, forcing the plane to make an emergency landing in St. Louis where every passenger will be body-cavity searched. Then it would be a terrible publicity stunt.
It’ll also stink to be flying coach on the flight home because you already pawned that first-class return ticket for another twenty minutes with Crystal at the Crazy Horse II. SUCKER!
Leave it to Sir Richard Branson to corner the fucking market on our need to feel important. It’ll fucking work. It’s not that people actually want to be important, or really even do something important, it is that we want others to see us that way. No Sir Richard, you island owning dilletante, create the illusion in my mind that I am some-fucking-body. Please, I want a velvet rope express lane at the airport terminal. I want others to get their dick and balls checked, take off their shoes, all that shit… while I just stroll by and merely hand them my e-ticket and passby unmolested. I want you to immediately close the velvet rope behind me, then have the attendant hold up the “talk to the hand” to anyone who might be behind me. Even if there is no crowd there trying to somehow get into the cool-kid line that I just went through, have the attendant act like an asshole to anyone who even looks our way. I want to walk through that fucking terminal like I was the goddamn President. I want fake paparazzi flashing cameras. I want to hold my head up so high in the air as I pass by, seemingly oblivious to them, the hordes of the hellishly molested airport little people. I want someone throwing a goddamn fit about how the velvet rope is somehow discriminatory as I check my luggage. I want others to be envious and outraged by how easily your velvet rope opens for me. I want to be obviously too drunk to fly, but tolerated, because I am on the goddamn entourage tour. Sir Richard Branson, you sir, you are the king of commercial douche-bag-dom.
Or I could just save the 2 grand and buy myself a $50 bag of crack. I think I’d feel less guilty, and for that matter less ridiculous, if I just hit that goddamn pipe one more time.
If you want the real Entourage experience, you should just give someone else your two grand and then hang around with them all day while they spend it, trying desperately to convince them to kick you a new pair of Nikes.
[...] Virgin Airlines Offers “Entourage Experience” For Closeted Junior Investment [...]
[...] the episode is over, but still, it’s a guilty pleasure of mine.) Regardless, I still think this is preposterous. I mean at that point you’re paying for the illusion that you’re a [...]