So, there I was, in yet another airport. In what city doesn’t really matter. I was awaiting my flight after having arrived super early because “you know security can be a nightmare early in the morning with all the business travelers.”
Turns out I breezed through security, which beats the alternative. So, that mean sitting down in a chair at my gate with a Venti cup of heaven for an inordinate amount of time.
As I’m minding my business scrolling through my Twitter stream looking for something to entertain me for a few minutes they announce we’ll be boarding soon.
“Good morning ladies and gentleman and Welcome to United. We’ll begin boarding first with people needing assistance, then families with little kids, then military personnel in uniform and then our Triple Platinum members. This will be followed by those with Elite status. And, children under 5 feet tall traveling with a 3 legged dog named “Hoppy” in a carry-on bag. If there are any androgynous people, Boom it’s your lucky day…you’re up next. Then and only then will Group 1 go. Folks this is going to be a very full flight. If you have more than 1 bag and are in Group 3 or higher you might want to start planning on checking that bag now.”
<OK so I may have exaggerated that a bit.>
As I look down at my boarding pass I see: Group 4.
Sigh. Apparently I’m riding in the baggage hull. At least I’ll be with my bag.
“Excuse me, but will Mr. CV please report to the podium.”
FUCK! They never call you up to the podium for good news.
Hi, I’m CV. – Me
Oh good morning Mr. CV I have something for you. – Podium helper #1 on the left hands me an envelope.
Umm, is this good or bad news? – Me.
Oh it’s good news. – Podium helper #1 on the left.
Is it “I’m going to First Class” good news? – Me.
Oh Mr CV it’s NEVER that good. – Podium helper #1 on left smiles and laughs to Podium prime person on the right.
<Grumble> – Me.
So I walk back to my seat (yes I left my bag that I’m going to have to check unattended Mr and/or Mrs Lt Cmdr TSA!), sit down and, while all around me are wondering what kind of special person I am, I open my personal envelope to find, this…
So, apparently, after 20 years of membership, I’m still sitting in the center sear of row 27, but I get a handwritten card! How nice. The least they could have done was give me a free drink.
Apparently, membership doesn’t really have it’s privileges.
Lloyd Dobler, I know how you feel <1:16 in>.