A first class Robin Hood was kicked off a flight over the weekend for attempting to sneak free drinks to his friends in economy class.

The incident happened on an American Airlines flight from Philadelphia to Atlanta, according to Katie Genter of The Points Guy, who was also on the flight. The premium class passenger boarded the flight with two friends in economy. After taking his seat, a flight attendant offered first class passengers a pre-departure drink, which the man had — and then followed up with an order for two more drinks.

The flight attendant told the man he could order only one drink at a time, so he said it was for the woman next to him. (It wasn't.) When the two drinks arrived, the man in 1A began his crusade back to economy class. But the flight attendant intervened, saying he must remain in first class with the drinks. He tried saying he was going to the bathroom — but there's a first class lavatory, and the attendant said he had to use that.

Despite the resistance, he pressed on. According to Genter, he texted his friends to come up to the bathroom and meet him in the middle. When they tried, they were directed to use the bathroom at the back of the plane. At that point, the gig was apparently up. Genter tweeted that a manager appeared, and the first class passenger eventually left the plane.

Full story here.

This man has set the bar high, my dear friends. He has, even in failure, sought to reach heights unknown and summit the most dangerous of peaks. Then again, anybody who expected anything else from a dude who was sitting in first class with the rest of his buddies way in the back knows NOTHING about the dynamics of bro-love. 

Let’s first dive into the situation on hand: we’ve got one friend and first class and the rest in economy. There aren’t many options here. If you’re a dude in first class, you either make sure all of your friends are with you, or you do everything in your power to make sure your boys drink with you. You spin a web of lies to the flight attendant and organize your own smuggling network to get those shots back to your boys. You do whatever it takes to wet your boys’ lips.

To understand the motivation behind servicing your boys, one first must understand that every friend group has a “daddy.” My friend group has a daddy, and yours does too. Daddy takes care of you. Sometimes Daddy may be the financial alpha, but sometimes he (or she) may not, but he doesn’t let anything get in the way of treating his boys right. If you’re out at the bar and looking glum, bro-daddy buys you a shot. If everyone is out for the big game, bro-daddy always recommends getting an extra appetizer for the table. And, of course, if you get too out of control on a Saturday night, bro-daddy has the last say on when the communal taser meets its ominous and dutiful fate.

Bro-daddy doesn’t perform his duties because he thinks his bros deserve the best, or deserve to be treated better. Bro-daddy performs his duties because he just wants the best for the peasantry. His bros are blue collar workers grinding away with things that the 1% bro-daddy never has to worry about, like low self confidence, an unawareness of social cues, and a limited understanding of existence. Bro-daddy sees all of the parallel timelines playing out simultaneously across a thousand screens, and while his simple friends fumble blindly in the present like a couple of moles, he seeks the one true path to nirvana. And, once he finds it, he takes his little mole friends by the mole paws and leads them into the unfamiliar warmth of the glowing sun. Bro-daddy giveth, and bro-daddy taketh away.

Now this situation could have played out differently if this friend group’s daddy had been sitting in economy with the rest of his boys, and the friend group’s bro-of-innocence had been upgraded to first class. Then bro-daddy would spend the entire flight scrounging up extra peanuts for his economy bros and telling all of the lovely ladies in economy about his “hot shot” friend in first class. Of course, this is not how the pieces landed on the chessboard of bro-dom, and this is not how the situation played out. The bro-daddy in question was faced with a fateful decision and the weight of the bro-daddy crown. He knew that he either had to get his friends shots of tequila using any means necessary, get kicked off the flight trying, or risk relinquishing his title once and for all. When faced with these options, these circumstances, and the lofty expectations of a dependent group of followers, the reader can appreciate that the bro-daddy never really had a choice. Or, if he did, it had been made long before the boarding passes were scanned on American Airline Flights 1862. 

I hope that pulling the curtain back on this one specific facet of male friendship (and possibly female friendships! I don’t now any girls!) helps put a little context behind this story. If it didn’t, I won’t be offended - this is an immensely complex system and I never expected you to understand it anyway.