If you know me, you’ll know I’m not the most frugal gentleman. If you don’t know me you’re missing out, but you do at least know I’m not the most frugal gentleman. Hell, if you put something in front of me with a price tag, especially if it’s electronic, I will most likely purchase it. So, when American Airlines asked, “Would you like priority seating for the low low price of $9?” I jumped at the chance. I’m a chill guy, but I’m also 6’3″ so air travel isn’t my cup of tea, and thus I get really impatient with idiots who don’t know how to board planes. And, since I was in one of the last rows I wanted to get on there before everyone else milling around trying to pick a place to stash their Justin Bieber collectibles.
So, thrilled with my decision to upgrade from seating area 2 to seating area 1, I park myself in the lounge and wait to be called ahead of all the schmucks that weren’t as smart as me. Soon the airline attendant steps up to the mic. I get up, ticket clutched expectantly in hand, ready to bolt ahead of the line with a smirk, when they call “Seating areas 1 and 2 may now board.” Bastards. I just paid $9 for to feel shame and disappointment. Basically, they charged me to feel like a stripper.
Boo, American Airlines, boo.