Preferred Access

Before a recent flight home I sat at the gate, waiting to board my plane. An airline employee called for First Class customers to board and then called for the “Preferred Access” customers to load as well.

I get the First Class thing with its wider seats and separate bathroom. But I don’t get why someone sitting in a narrow-ass coach seat would pay extra or sign up for some lame airline credit card just to board a plane a bit earlier than others. Maybe it guarantees you a spot in an overhead bin if you’re the type whose carry-on bag is so big you have to pound on it repeatedly to get the hatch-door to close. Perhaps you like to feel special for no real reason. But other than that, you’re still just cargo. The plane isn’t leaving any earlier, so the time you spend on the plane by boarding early just replaces the time you’d have sat near the gate.

Same crap, different place.

Wanna know who has the easiest, quickest route to their seat? It’s the guy with one very small bag who sits at the far edge of the waiting area, swilling Jim Beam from a Starbucks cup. He lets everyone else rub against each other and compete for overhead space while he enjoys his drink. He waits and drinks patiently until the airline employee steps up to mic and says “This is the final boarding call for Flight 182 to Dallas.”

At which point he polishes off his “coffee”. He boards the plane, staggers down the empty aisle to his seat, and stuffs his small bag under the seat in front of him. And then shouts “Okay, we can leave now!!”

That’s Preferred Access. And best of all, it’s free.