I had two chances at joining the Mile High Club. My girlfriend and I went on an interstate vacation and took a plane. On the way there we tried but were constantly nagged and observed by a middle-aged flight attendent who knew exactly what we were trying to do in the bathrooms, and kept an eye out whenever one of us went in there.
And on the flight home we were both too exhausted from our holiday that she slept the whole hour of the flight, and I watched the in-flight television.
But that would have been the greatest experience ever, joining the Mile High Club at age eighteen
