Saturday night, I got a call from Delta Airlines. My flight back to Ohio from Texas was overbooked due to the substitution of a smaller plane. Would I volunteer for another flight in return for a $200 travel voucher?
Thinking both of our upcoming whirl of June travel (when wedding season arrives in all its fury) and of the fact that my current flight required that I be at the airport returning my car by 5:30 AM, I called them. The change the proposed was beneficial all around: I would leave two hours later (winning two precious hours of sleep) and spend two hours less in layover in Detroit, arriving in Ohio at the same time as before. Plus they would give me $200 towards future travel. I agreed.
Next morning, slightly more rested than I had originally expected, I arrived at the airport and checked in. My seat could not yet be assigned, the kiosk told me. I should check in at the gate. When I did so, the gate attendant gave me a pained smile. "You see, we're over booked," he explained. "On the last flight, we didn't have enough volunteer and we had to bump some people, and now they are on this flight. Would you consider taking another flight?"
"Possibly," I said. "So long as I can arrive back in Ohio not too much later."
He consulted the terminal which held all the occult knowledge of a major airline. "If you'll wait till 12:15 instead of 9:30," he advised, "I can route you through Atlanta and you'll arrive at your final destination at 5:20 instead of 2:15. I can give you a $400 travel voucher and upgrade you to first class for both flights."
Four hundred dollars was more than I normally made for three hours of reading Evelyn Waugh's Sword of Honor trilogy. And I had never flown first class. I said yes. I was issued several flimsy slips of printed paper: two first class boarding passes, a voucher whose nineteen digit code I was advised to secret away with due care as it would secure me $400 in travel, and a coupon worth $6 of airport food (which in the Dallas Airport can score you roughly 2/3 of a deli sandwich).
I took my novel and went off to find a place to sit, all the while in the knowledge that while I might look, to others, like the same groggy traveler, bearing a backpack and an Everyman Library hardcover, I was in fact a First Class Traveler.
"So," MrsDarwin asked, after I had reclaimed my baggage and was setting off towards home. "Was it everything you had dreamed it could be?"
I'm not sure I quite expected to be whisked off into the airline paradise of Catch Me If You Can, but had I done so, I would have been disappointed. At least on 1-3 hour connector flights around the US in moderate size planes, flying first class is kind of like flying economy, only with all the most annoying aspects removed. You get to board right away and get off right away. The seat is large enough to fit an adult comfortably, without pressing one's shoulder against the capacious person next to you. The stewardess offers you allows you to choose a snack from a little basket featuring six different kinds of snacks (sun chips, shortbread cookies, peanuts, etc.) and in addition to the standard sodas you can select (for free) from three brands of beer, two colors of wine, or a variety of poorly mixed and over-iced drinks.
Ah, but that is only the world weary explanation I give afterwards. At the time, I settled back in my seat, ordered a succession of gin and tonics (which I was never quite able to convince the stewardess should include a lime wedge rather than a lemon wedge) and flirted with the thirteen-month-old who was in the seat next to me.
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6 comments:
Lemon wedge??? (I feel like that news anchor who always popped up in the middle of Monty Python segments with a puzzled "Lemon curry?")
At the time, I settled back in my seat, ordered a succession of gin and tonics (which I was never quite able to convince the stewardess should include a lime wedge rather than a lemon wedge) and flirted with the thirteen-month-old who was in the seat next to me.
Sounds heavenly!
I bet the baby's parents were glad that seat was taken by someone who appreciates babies!!!
Round about 14-15 years ago, when the industry I work in was a bit different than it is now, I had the chance to fly first class a number of times. My company would often purchase a full fare ticket which would allow you to change flight times without a minimum of additional expense or effort. I don't know if it was worth it, but someone in finance thought so, and it allowed me the opportunity to fly first class from Connecticut to LA, San Diego, and Toronto more than once.
One early morning flight I was basking in the luxury of first class (at this time, first class came with a few more perks than now, as well): I had a paper, orange juice, coffee, and bagel laid out in front of me before the "regular" passengers had even boarded the plane. I was dealt a large dose of humility when a very frazzled-looking young mother came on board dragging a little girl, about 6, behind her, as well as her carry-ons.
As they were ushered through first class to aft section of the plane, the little girl asked, "Mama, how come they are eating breakfast already?" Without looking back or slowing her pace, the mother replied, "Because they have more money than we do, sweetheart."
Wow, lucky man. The vouchers are real the win, IMO. I no longer have "first class" envy, because while it's clearly better seating than coach, it's hardly that much better.
BTW, great seeing you again. Thanks for taking the time to visit.
Years ago, when I was a road warrior, I arrived one afternoon at Pittsburgh airport to find my USAir flight to Philadelphia overbooked. I volunteered to give up my seat and leave on a later flight that evening, in return for which I received a voucher to fly anywhere in the US that USAir flew.
When I arrived at the gate to take my later flight, I found that THAT flight was also overbooked, so once again I volunteered to give up my seat and leave the following morning, in return for which I received ANOTHER voucher to fly anywhere in the US that USAir flew, plus I was put up in an airport hotel for the night and given a coupon for breakfast.
Those were the days, my friend.
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