When you’ve had it all, lost it all and got it back and lost it again and are managing to rebuild one final time, expectations change.

On a recent trip from Montgomery to Ft. Lauderdale I was simply happy to get a decent fare (the cheap seats always go on sale at 4pm ET—try it!). A window or aisle seat is a bonus.

However, the flight out of Montgomery was delayed several times and making the Atlanta connection that night became an impossibility. I called Delta.
The lady who took my call was really nice and rebooked me for the next morning—and put me in first class on the flight from Atlanta to FLL. There is no first class out of Montgomery because the commuter aircraft—which I affectionately call “Barbie’s Big Jet“—offers only one-size-fits-all seating.

Before concluding the re-book, the Delta lady asked if I had ever lived on 34th Street in Miami. At first I thought someone had stolen my identity but then I remembered I did live there—the first time I had it all.

She informed me that Delta had been trying to update my account for 23 years because I had accumulated 25,000 miles on my account. So now I was one of those annoying people with miles, too.

A recent survey of the flying public showed overwhelming support for an airline dress code. Since there isn’t one, I established my own. Flying first class? Look the part.

I live my life in Casual Land, spending my days in sweatpants and t-shirts (the radio dress code). After some searching (and auditioning various pants) I found a nice pair of slacks that didn’t seem inclined to hike, a smart shirt all topped with my cool new black blazer. Assembly completed, I looked like a first class passenger—though probably not a “real” one.

Very few people who travel in 1st actually buy the seat. A round trip from ATL to FLL is about $14,000. They use the comfort of this section to reward idiots like me who forgot they were Skymiles customers for 23 years.

I happily endured the 24 MINUTE flight from Montgomery to Atlanta, departing on time at 5:30 the next morning.

ATL is always packed. People move through it like floodwater, sort of flowing to the right concourse or gate. Going with the flow is the only way to go in Atlanta.

Moving about ATL is far more tolerable when you know you have 1st class accommodations waiting for you at the gate. Our plane was a Boeing 757—a long tube with 3 seats per side in coach. It’s a fine jet, but if you end up in Row 114 at the back end, it takes almost as long to deplane as it does to fly the 800 miles.

Airlines try to board the flights from the back end first but the people in the middle rows always jump in early so they can wrestle their carry-ons into the overhead compartment. I love it when the boarding agent proclaims “final call for this flight” and you rush to the ramp only to find yourself standing behind a ponderously long line of people going nowhere.

As I hopped aboard my flight I noticed an immediate distinction between 1st and coach. The flight attendant working 1st looked like “Grown Up Barbie“—or a former runway model or Posture Queen who for some reason, decided to become a Glamorous Flight Attendant.

Frau Blucher was working coach.