Six transatlantic crossings this year. Six. I’ve logged the circumference of the earth. Four flights on American airlines, those being Continental and Northwest. Hatred. Hated those flights.

Continental Airlines, these advertisements are so infuriating:

It should say “work hard, fly wrong.”

Sorry, I’d rather walk there.

I’ll dig a hole.

And the piece de resistance:

I’ll take the smelliest, dirtiest subway I can find. If you want to get to Stockholm three hours late, take an aircraft left over from World War I, be served inedible food on tables sloping downward, Continental all the way.

I flew Northwest Airlines too. I was too angry at them to take any photos from that plane trip because they could not possibly capture what it felt like to be delayed four hours, be fed absolutely inedible food and to not be given this strange substance called “water.” “Water.” Its so rare. People travel millions of miles to find it. If you live in the Kalahari and are a bushman. Northwest Airlines planes are actually in the the Kalahari. Who knew.

And now, finally the point of all of this. My last flight to Stockholm, I flew SAS. I’ve flown this airline before and liked it. SAS shot glasses. Good meals.

But after this last flight, I feel truly and madly in love with this airline.

Love comes on in stages. Sometimes, it is at first sight. Other times it is instantaneous. My love for SAS grew slowly.

Board the aircraft and you see this:

This just puts you in a good mood.

We left on time:

Yeah, its just daylight, but we were supposed to leave in daylight.

Free bottles of a rare substance known as “water:”

Also free:

Notice it says “amused” and not “driven into a homicidal rage:”

Magazines featuring these types of headlines:

This cutie used to be the goalie for the Danish national team.

Tray tables where when you put the food on them, you don’t risk having your dinner in your lap:

Crackery-spicy things that aren’t salty peanuts:

Food. Not “food.” Food. Actual food. We’re not talking Le Cirque here, but an ok meal:

Got there in daylight, again, when we were supposed to be there:

Being able to watch this adorable, gem of a show:

All right, all right. Lucky coincidence because I love this show. You may not love this show, but to me, this show is hilarious. Anyone who grew up in Manhattan in the 1980s recognizes things in it and can’t help but be amused.

So, listen up American airlines:

Private equity, which will buy anything, and it won’t touch you with a 10 foot pole. Finance your transaction with debt that you will attach to the mind boggling amount of debt these airlines already have. No way.

Flights on SAS are not terribly more expensive than a flight on some American airline. Come on guys. Get your act together.

Suck. I wish I could fly SAS from New York to Philadelphia. I’d fly it from New York to Albany. SAS — look into that. You’d have at least one customer.