‘WHAT AIRLINE?’’ the cabbie asks, as we head off to the Denver airport. I tell him. Catching my eyes in the mirror, he asks, “Would that be premier or ordinary?’’
What? Then I realize. “Ordinary,’’ I answer, and feel the faintest bolt of shame. At the check-in computer, I am offered, for $45, access to the express security lane, and, for $50, a day pass to the airline’s VIP lounge. I might buy a seat with extra legroom, but they are sold out.
In the mobbed security hall, the dedicated channel for flight crews and premier-lane users is backed up, too, but these privileged passengers don’t seem to mind. At my ordinary checkpoint, do I sense condescension in the TSA officer? Eventually, I arrive at the gate as the microphone crackles, indicating that boarding is about to start. “We welcome passengers for Flight 678 to Boston,’’ the gate agent announces, “and we invite active-duty US service personnel to approach the red carpet first.’’ At the narrow jetway entrance, a rope-stand separates small stretches of carpet - one red, one blue - angling into the same passageway. “And now, in order, we welcome our 100,000-mile travelers, premier executives, star gold, gold elite, premier, star silver, star silver elite, and Chase Explorer card members.’’ She has recited the litany without missing a beat, and a large cluster of passengers crowds at the gate. Only now does the gate agent invite “our first class passengers to come to the red carpet.’’ Further crowding. “And now, children under 4, and persons with special needs - the blue carpet, please.’’
