Last Tango in Toronto

Posted on August 10, 2013 under Storytelling with 2 comments

I have always dreamed of flying on Emirates Airlines.  It is supposed to be the best airline in the world, and the most exclusive.  No expense is spared for the super- rich.  Only sheiks, athletes, super models or politicians need apply for passage.  Pampering takes on a whole new meaning.  I am pondering this as I check in for an economy class flight with Tango from Halifax to Edmonton, via Toronto.

I don’t travel enough or fly far enough to warrant first class fare.  In many ways, airline travel has come a long way.  Gone are the days when you would be subjected to a plane full of acrid cigarette smoke and because booze is no longer free, outlandish behaviour has all but been eradicated.  Flights, more or less, take off and arrive on time.  Sometimes more, sometimes less.

But no matter how you cut it, flying economy is still a stigmatizing experience.

One of the first things they do at an airport is scan the barcode on your boarding pass.  I often wondered why this was done and after exhaustive research, I can tell you.  The barcode sends a secret message throughout the entire airline network that I am a regular Joe.   An “economy” passenger.

I tested my theory today.  When we arrived at the airport and I asked the ticket agent if my bags would be checked through to Edmonton, she giggled.  When she put the smiley face on my bag along with a sticker that said “good luck, sucker”, I knew my fate was sealed.  We went through security flawlessly although they questioned me about the lucky marble in my pants pocket.  I didn’t see this as a threat to national security.

The flight to Toronto was uneventful.  Many of the other passengers connecting to Edmonton were Maritimers, probably heading for Fort Mac.  A quiet group; I suspect that they are a bit rowdier on the return trip back east.

We had time to kill at Pearson so I opened my laptop to do a bit of work.  I was sitting in an area that obviously had WI FI capacity, as many well-dressed business types were madly pecking away at their keyboards and checking e-mails.  It appeared that I was connected but all attempts to get on line were thwarted.  An error code flashed up on a screen accompanied by another smiley face.  My blood began to boil.

And then it was time to board the plane for the second leg of the trip.  The announcement came over the public address system: “Would all Elite, Super Elite, Super Duper Elite, Executive Class, Gold and Platinum members please proceed to the Priority Boarding Red Carpet”.  The rest of the cattle were herded in a separate lineup.   I fully expected the executive class people to be going to a separate airplane.

Did I mention that I was travelling with my guitar?  We ran the gauntlet through the first class passengers nursing their pre-flight drinks.  Our seats were at the very back of the plane, near the Manitoba border.  At least we were close to the washrooms, which is always a blessing on a long trip.  The flight attendant told me that I would have to play her a tune if I wished to use the bathroom.

We enjoyed a gourmet meal of water after hearing the chief steward announce to anyone who cared that those in executive class would be receiving their hot meal shortly.

The plane landed and I am reasonably sure that the Elites were already on their connecting flight to somewhere exotic by the time the last of the cattle (us) disembarked from the plane.

I didn’t bother to check and see if my luggage had arrived.

Advertisement