Traveling used to be a giant and exciting adventure for me. My parents lived in England, where my Dad was stationed, and at least twice a year I would cross the pond to go to school and to come home for Christmas. These were the days of no cell phones, and I can't even imagine what my parents must have gone though wondering where there daughter was. You see, I went space available on Air Force planes surrounded by handsome pilots and crews and frankly coeds got some pretty special treatment. You would head to the east coast on a commercial flight then you'd be at an air base. "Would you like to go to Beirut or Aviano?" Tough choices.
I spent a birthday in the Azores, surrounding by pilots singing me Happy Birthday .One year I traded a carton of cigarettes for a cab ride near Barcelona. .After all, it was Sunday and I didn't have any foreign currency. Another year a was stuck with a group of college age kids in Germany for a week before we could get out. A week full of gin and tonics at the Officers Club in Ramstein and a summer romance with a former classmate on his way to TU. Life was good.. Mostly. Then there was the trip I will never forget when I rode with the bodies of fifty soldiers that were killed in Vietnam. I cried all the way.
Of course, here I was this morning with a standby tickets and fond memories of a weekend spent with my NYU student daughter. it looked dismal at best. The a smiley voice send " we're going to upgrade you to business class ....music to my ears. Now that was a pleasant surprise. So in my three hour wait I visited with the gate girls on Air Tran and asked how they pick people for an upgrade.
In short..here's the drill
Don't be a bitch...that will get you a seat on the back of the plane
Don't carry tons of cheesy bags and totes and paper bags. Tacky. I travel with one black Longchamp back for purse and carry one. Of course it's a freaking mess inside...but it looks like I have it together
Dress like you belong there. No tacky sweat pants, jogging suits or pajamas. Seriously...it's a plane ride not a slumber party. I mean how comfortable do you really have to be? Dress like classic Jackie O ...simple even with slacks.
Leave the boobs tucked away.that will get you a seat in the back too.
So I wait and wait and suprise...upgraded again. I am on a roll. Of course this will never probably ever happen to me again. But I stand by my Mothers rules of dressing on planes and I have to
admit I did fly first class from London to Chicago on my last trip. There has to be some method to
the madness.
What gets you an upgrade? Please share
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