I could be happy for the rest of my life--well happy for me--if I could travel the world continually while using business/fancy lounges.
Well, maybe I shouldn't travel the world continually, even I would get travel weary I suppose. However, I could do it a lot.
And I do not need true fanciness. But the relative indulgence of these no-longer-truly-exclusive lounges is just the right amount of fanciness for me and my cheapskate desire for "free" things. That being said, the NYC JFK delta lounge is not near as nice as its sister in KLM Amsterdam. This one is new, though, so it is fresh and shiny. The "freeness" only extends to some sad trail mixes and house drinks, which you have to shamefully request from the bartender. You do not have to shamefully request, but if you suffer as I do from residual guilt about everything, undoubtedly you will have shame upon return visits. My opinion of said lounge has decreased a bit as this one is adding a ridiculous charge for anything other than the trail mix. More damning, one bartender mistakenly(?) mixed me a "special" bloody mary instead of the "complimentary" version--she must be new--and it was loads tastier than the sad from-the-can variety that you can suck down in 2 minutes due to its lack of spice and thinness. However, I am not truly picky, and nothing quite delights me as a travel bloody mary. (I love all bloody marys without reservation, but a bloody mary consumed in the vicinity of planes --on one or viewing them-- somehow is more delicious no matter how bad it is.
Come to think of it, my longing for (even) bad bloody marys parallels my adolescent desire for terrible hotel coffee. Why is that I wonder? Something about it must signal (faux) adventure and (naive) opportunity.
A more fancy lady than I has ordered a sushi plate. I am quite jealous. Ooo here comes her clearly not-house wine (the glass is 3x the size of the other). Bah. I refuse to pay $20 for a mediocre sushi plate. I save my over expenditures for the tomato and vodka variety only.
And I do not need true fanciness. But the relative indulgence of these no-longer-truly-exclusive lounges is just the right amount of fanciness for me and my cheapskate desire for "free" things. That being said, the NYC JFK delta lounge is not near as nice as its sister in KLM Amsterdam. This one is new, though, so it is fresh and shiny. The "freeness" only extends to some sad trail mixes and house drinks, which you have to shamefully request from the bartender. You do not have to shamefully request, but if you suffer as I do from residual guilt about everything, undoubtedly you will have shame upon return visits. My opinion of said lounge has decreased a bit as this one is adding a ridiculous charge for anything other than the trail mix. More damning, one bartender mistakenly(?) mixed me a "special" bloody mary instead of the "complimentary" version--she must be new--and it was loads tastier than the sad from-the-can variety that you can suck down in 2 minutes due to its lack of spice and thinness. However, I am not truly picky, and nothing quite delights me as a travel bloody mary. (I love all bloody marys without reservation, but a bloody mary consumed in the vicinity of planes --on one or viewing them-- somehow is more delicious no matter how bad it is.
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| down the hatch |
A more fancy lady than I has ordered a sushi plate. I am quite jealous. Ooo here comes her clearly not-house wine (the glass is 3x the size of the other). Bah. I refuse to pay $20 for a mediocre sushi plate. I save my over expenditures for the tomato and vodka variety only.
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