First Class

I definitely have a philosophy about dealing with the service professionals. I watch in amazement as countless people demean the people working the typically lesser paid jobs while at the same time they demand favors. I have a former boss that says that he can tell everything he needs to know about someone by the way that they play golf. He can tell how they handle stress, how they recover from a bad situation, how they reason and how well they carry themselves with others. I say, give me an evening at a restaurant or let me fly with someone -- and I can tell within a few minutes whether or not you are a good person.

This philosophy carries over to flying. I have a few things I always do...
1) I always dress up a little bit. Not that I am trying to be pretentious -- everyone knows that without my wife I would have zero fashion sense -- I just want to look like I care.
2) I always smile and try to chat up the airline staff. If they are busy or don't want to chat, I accept that.
3) I always help any older person, woman or child get things situated when they obviously need a bit of help.
4) I try to relax and forget the stress. Typically more so than I can do anywhere else as for some zen reason, I seem to simply accept that I will get where I am going within a day or so of my intended time within a suitcase or so of what I started with... I am always caring a mobile phone, passport, credit card and laptop. Anything or anyone else can be purchased, called, or emailed.

So I get to Atlanta for the long layover. I am patient with the waitstaff at Fridays after an hour or so of waiting on my Diet Coke. (Don't ask for any Pepsi product in Atlanta, you get a lecture.) I patiently relax in the airline gate waiting area.

I look at my ticket and I realize that I have the worst of the worst... I am in a middle seat of the middle section. I am guaranteed to get zero sleep. So I walk over the the desk and say politely that I just noticed that I am in a middle seat, I understand that they are busy but if anything opens up anywhere else on the plane that I would definitely consider it a personal favor if they could help me.

The British guy looks at the ticket, recognizes my name as a former general and says he would do what he can, but looks very doubtful. I thank him and tell him that I completely understand. I wish him luck with all the demanding people in line -- and tell him that all Americans aren't this annoying, just all the people in this particular line...

5 minutes pass and my name is called. Aisle seat
5 minutes more pass and my name is called and suddenly I am in first class
5 minutes more pass and my name is called again -- uh oh, thinking my first class assignment was temporary, but no -- he is giving me a better first class seat.

The funny part about it too was that a woman cut in front of me to board the plane. She was rude and giving the woman a hard time about the ticketing process. She, of course, boarded in front of me (I am never really in a hurry to get into a seat that will be conforming to my butt for 8 hours) and then was horrified that I was sitting next to her... and she apologized for several minutes... Ah Karma.

I arrived at Heathrow very rested, got my luggage and met my driver at the exit. I put my luggage in the "boot" and walked around to get into the passenger side. Of course, when I opened the door to the British car, the "passenger" seat came equipped with a steering wheel, gas pedal and full controls. A nice British voice spoke very matter of factly and said, "If it is all well with you, I will do the driving".

Crikey.