I’m flying out for the MacTech conference in LA tomorrow. Today was the first time ever, I think, that I upgraded my seating in advance, explicitly, instead of as a spur-of-the-moment thing at checkin because I was tired or the kiosk offered me a deal.
I don’t care so much about the extra six inches of legroom. I just wanted the Group 1 boarding. Even that isn’t precisely the big Get: I just want to avoid those tiny little cuts when I get my boarding passes and find out that I lost the big lottery. Group 4: scum class. “You may board after every category of desirable passenger has already seated themselves and stowed their luggage.”
I don’t fly enough to rate upgrade rewards and even if a speaking committee offered me First Class tickets, I’d probably ask them to put me in an aisle seat and coach and we could split the price difference in class.
I wish airlines had a sort of Frequent Flier program just for seat upgrades. Like, after I’ve bought $X worth of Group One Boarding privileges, I can spend some of my points and get to board the plane with the soldiers on my next flight.
So why did I do this ahead of time?
Because I’m old and tired. Or, maybe more experienced and wise. Whatever, I’m encouraging myself to look at experiences that I dread and try to identify elements of it in which the awfulness is largely voluntary. So this time, I’m paying for early boarding, and I’m taking an afternoon flight from a regional airport instead of leaving at oh-my-god o’clock to get to an 8 AM flight from a larger airport that everyone’s trying to get to, all at once.
(I am a mental powerhouse. I only have to keep my hand on a hot stove for twenty years before I give oven mitts a try.)