Saturday, February 08, 2025 | Sha'ban 8, 1446 H
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EDITOR IN CHIEF- ABDULLAH BIN SALIM AL SHUEILI

The airport dance of the haves and have nots

Ray Petersen
Ray Petersen
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Are you a frequent or infrequent flyer? It is the one single environment where the gulf between the ‘haves,’ and ‘have nots,’ is never more evident.


The contemporary Business or First-Class traveller, whether they are intentionally contemptuous or not, always appear smug and satisfied, with that ghost of a smile that is both there, and not.


With a totally undeserved, yet omnipresent, sneer of arrogance that lingers below the surface as they proceed through the many ‘fast lanes,’ their stride barely interrupted, their ‘Colgate’ smiles a ubiquitous betrayal of their absolute superiority, their affirmation that in by-passing the seething cesspit of humanity that is the economy waiting area, they truly are... privileged.


The privileged traveller has probably arrived at the airport only 90 minutes prior to take-off, fast-tracking through check-in, security, and border controls, prior to taking the lift to the ‘Executive Lounge,’ where they can relax with high-quality food and drink, at no cost, maybe a shower and a ‘freshen up,’ before departing to their boarding gate.


The smug self-satisfaction with which most of the privileged ‘elite’ travel though, should surely be mitigated by their honest recognition that they rarely pay out of their own pockets, as most are travelling on expense accounts. It’s not enough to ‘lord’ over them the company car, petrol card, subsidised housing and entertainment expenses. You just simply must deliver the ultimate slap down to the innate modesty of the middle-class by flaunting your ‘fly-by,’ almost celebrity, status.


And while you almost conceal your delight at your faux ‘superiority,’ those in economy, or ‘cattle class as it’s commonly referred to, conceal with gritted teeth, their similarly concealed envy towards you. Well, nearly! Their tolerance and goodwill though always tested by the surfeit of manned check-in counters at the end of a maze of lanes that draw them closer, ever so slowly, at glacial pace towards the desk where their check-in needs will be met by understanding and over-worked staff.


Checked in, Mr and Mrs Normal Ordinary Everyday will then face another maze that takes them at snail’s pace towards security, where they will be made to remove passports, laptops and phones, wallets, belts, jackets, hats and shoes, with a minimum of dignity, then be individually scanned, prior to being reunited with their ‘stuff.’


Here with no ‘dressing tables,’ they are required to redress, repack, re-shoe and refill their bags and pockets, all the while buffeted by understandably brusque staff, and hundreds of other frantic travellers seeking to restore their possessions and their dignity, with the latter being absolutely impossible!


Then, lo and behold, a third maze that ends at Passport Control with yet more interminable waiting, delay, impediment, setbacks and hampering, prior to encountering the steely, unsmiling gaze of a border officer, just doing their job, but in your eyes looking for any excuse to refuse you passage.


Well, no, not really that last bit, but even as the most legitimate of travellers, there is always that niggling we doubt about an errant speeding or parking offence that may trip you at the last hurdle. It’s irrational I know, but it’s human nature, that at this stage, nothing appears straightforward any more. It’s like... every time you use your ATM card there is just a moment of doubt... will it or?


Successfully through Border Control, you can relax for a while in the duty-free shopping and dining area, where you have the questionable ‘privilege’ of paying the most exorbitant tea, coffee and sandwich prices ever! Frequent (economy) flyers will know however, you won’t finish your refreshments before you are summoned to your boarding gate, which is invariably miles away... and when you get there, there are many more passengers than seats; half the passengers ‘don’t know’ their seat numbers or zones, and well, it’s just chaotic.


Meanwhile, ‘Mr Expense Account,’ has boarded through the left lane, settled into his luxury seat, or suite and is quaffing happily on his champagne or juice, unhurried, unworried, sending selfies to his Facebook page, comfortable and chilled. Such bliss!


A world away from economy, where the first babies start crying, the passenger beside you already wants the bathroom, and... you... are... still... on the ground.


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