A Middle-Class, First-Class Flight Experience
On being treated like a person instead of a passenger
Jolted awake from an awkward plane-sleeping position, a kind flight attendant placed fresh-cut fruit and flaky pastries on my pull-out food tray. Then he handed me metal utensils and poured my apple juice into a glass.
I was flying high in First class. I exploited my lack of spending and credit card-control and upgraded to First class using travel points I had accumulated over the past year buying things I probably (definitely) didn’t need.
I found myself surrounded by people who had probably paid three times the price of an economy ticket to be there. I made sure to wear nice clothes and at least act like I somewhat belonged, but I didn’t.
In fact, I felt like a giant fraud.
There is something ironic about using airline points that I accrued burying myself in debt to upgrade to a seat I could never have afforded.
Although the metal utensils, real glasses, and carefully-prepared food were a standout of my experience, what really struck me was the way I was treated.
