As we near our 10th straight year of living in a world of constant, illogical fear, it may seem unlikely that one could have any fun at all with an airline. Whether it’s finding yourself nickel-and-dimed in every imaginable way, having the TSA meet the resistance, or simply dealing with being packed in tightly with your fellow man, traveling by air can be quite dispiriting.

Nevertheless, there remain opportunities for tomfoolery. Often when booking airline travel, one will be presented with an option to select a prefix or title. The result of this choice is meaningless (though selecting one appropriate for your gender is likely advisable), making it a great place for a little chuckle. To wit:

Strangely, Delta feels I’m worthy of reverence.

Continental also shows respect.

Weeks or months later, when you get your ticket, you can laugh at the title your past self has bestowed upon you. There are usually an assortment of options, but the above two have some of the best deniability in case anyone calls you on your nonsense. Recently however, when signing up for Lufthansa’s frequent flyer program, an option too fantastic to be ignored was offered:

Professor Doctor

Yes, thanks to Lufthansa, I’m now a card-carrying Professor Doctor. I haven’t decided on a field yet, but Professor Doctor of Love seems sure to impress the ladies.

I assumed two titles would be the maximum I could get out of an airline, and felt quite pleased. Then, I saw the envelope in which they’d sent the card:

Mister Professor Doctor!

The next challenge? Suffixes. Mister Professor Doctor Paul Kafasis, Esquire really rolls off the tongue.

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