Why I Love American Express

For 25 years I’ve been paying for an American Express Platinum Card and asking myself why.

Yesterday I found out.

I found myself on a rare trip to New York City in December. I did not make my own reservations, and the client company flew me through Chicago Midway airport on the way from Phoenix to New York. Getting there was fine, but while I was in New York a bone chilling freeze followed me across the country, arriving the day before I was to go home.

On Friday afternoon I left for the airport in plenty of time to make my flight. However when I arrived at LaGuardia the kiosk wouldn’t issue me a boarding pass and told me to see an agent. This is never good.

At the same time, Tripit Pro informed me that my flight had been canceled. The problem was the Chicago area. Wind and ice had hit the Midwest.

The good news was I knew I could get home, if I could only get on another flight. The bad news was I couldn’t. I badgered the Southwest agent into looking through every possible set of potential connections, but there wasn’t a single seat. (I kept telling her I was an old woman, as though that might have escaped her notice.)

I’m not sure why I then went to the American Express Centurion lounge because I have never done that before. I was feeling like I might have a lot of time on my hands and perhaps even thinking that I might have to sleep at LaGuardia, which is like sleeping on the streets of Delhi.

But I went to the lounge.

A concierge with a name tag that said “Sharon” welcomed me without a faux smile and seemed willing to listen to my sob story about being desperate to get home that night. The very next thing she did was sympathetically offer me a chocolate bar, ( Vosges dark chocolate with hazelnut, no dairy), and tell me to go and enjoy the lounge while she tried to see what she could do.

The lounge was packed with other travelers who had missed their flights because they couldn’t get to their gates in time. The vehicular approaches to both Arrivals and Departures were at gridlock when I arrived and only got worse. It was taking people hours to get off the highway into the airport. Some people just abandoned their rides and hiked in, trailing their baggage.

Remember, it’s the week before Christmas, and LGA is a very outmoded airport, built before everyone owned a car. Now add on that it’s Friday afternoon.

But to Sharon’s credit, she seemed to have attention only for me. She immediately began working the phones, and finally located a nonstop flight to Phoenix. The problem was that the flight left from JFK. Undaunted, she reserved it for me and gave me a code for a free Uber ride to my next airport.

Her accomplice, Darnell, offered to walk me down to the Uber pickup spot. But we called two Ubers who both had to cancel on us because they could not get near enough to the airport terminal to pick me up. The drivers just gave up, and time was flying. If I didn’t make this flight I was definitely sleeping in JFK.

Sharon was unflappable through the failure of the Ubers to reach us, but finally she declared a state of emergency and told me that I should probably take the airport shuttle. Darnell, who appeared to be about eight months pregnant, insisted on walking me down to the shuttle, running to the other end of the terminal and making sure I got a ticket, as well as checking the time with me to make sure I could still make the flight.

The shuttle of course was late, caught in the same traffic, and then moved at 3 mph again in the Brooklyn Queens Expressway traffic on the way to JFK. A large electric sign across the expressway read “gridlock alert for New York City. Use mass transit.” It took us an hour to go 9 miles.

All the way, Sharon was calling me to make sure that I would get to JFK in time. If not, I have a feeling she had yet another backup plan.

She was not going to let me fail.

I arrived at the gate after my flight was supposed to be boarding and found out that it, too, was delayed: long enough for me to call Sharon and Darnell to thank them and order myself a beer.

Superior customer service is worth its weight in gold. And it always makes me feel as though i have made a friend. I hope Darnell’s baby is beautiful and smart, and I wish Sharon a long happy and healthy life. These women are not just customer service people to me now, they are friends. The world needs more of them.