I eventually won the opportunity to use my paid ticket for the intended destination (see yesteday's blog), but learned a little about air class warfare along the way.
I make frequent flights as cheaply as possible. Post 9/11, I was the belle of the airline ball. They needed me. They were very nice to me. I had "Elite" status.
Then Delta decided they needed to devalue the lower end of their loyalty program. I understand the need to celebrate and award big-ticket, business class travellers. This is America. There are inherent entitlements to having beacoup bucks. But I got whiplash going from Best Buddy to Pond Scum. Surely they could have found some middle ground.
At the check-in desk yesterday morning, the counter attendant felt the need to announce loudly and frequently that the problem with finding an appropriate solution to the situation was "your class of ticket." It was as if he was warning fellow passengers that they may need to update their vacinations on my account.
Because of my "class" I could either wait until 3 hours before the next flight to see if there was a seat left for me, or pay $560 to immediately confirm my place on a $220 ticket for which I had already paid.
I called the special number for we "Elite" passengers and was told much more politely that this was the only solution considering my class (maybe it was the class of my ticket, but by this point I was taking it personally).
Suddenly I had tremendous empathy for the girl back in high school who used to hook-up with the quarterback whenever he had a fight with his "real girlfriend" only to discover he didn't know her name when he had access to the girl her really wanted. I was an airline no-class tramp.
When I finally made it to Atlanta, I planted myself at the gate to wait the flight to Houston hoping to shield my classless status from a new group of fellow travellers.
They posted a notice for possible first class upgrades and no one approached the desk. I watched and waited, then meekly approached that counter attendant.
"Do you still do upgrades using miles? I asked, prepared for rebuff. He asked to see my ticket. I cringed at again revealing my classlessness. He entered a few computer keys and looked up with a smile "You certainly have a lot of miles," he said. "Enjoy your new seat, Mrs. Griggs."
In one key stroke I went from burdensome peasant to jet set. They had the excess inventory to love me again.
Before the flight, the captain shook hands with every one of we first-classers and thanked us for our business.
Sure, I knew he'd go back to his old girlfriend as soon as the flight was over. But for two glorious hours, I was sipping white wine and dating the quarterback.


Copyright 2004 Judi Griggs