Flights of fancy

Half a dozen times a year I fly from New York to San Francisco to visit my mother. I pay for the flights with “reward miles” accrued on my mother’s credit-card. Because the agency responsible for my mother’s 24-hour home care accepts payment by credit card, and her home care costs nearly $200,000 a year, I rarely have to pay actual cash to fly. All good. But there’s a big but: I have to fly on the widely and rightly reviled United.

Mostly my economy-class flights are like much of life in the lowest caste—cramped and smelly and occasionally humiliating. But sometimes there’s magic!

*Like the time I was asked to change flights—to an earlier flight in a section with more leg room AND I got a $300 credit.

*Like the time I was the only passenger in my row and I thought I’d lie down for a moment till the drinks cart came—and I woke up five hours later when the plane clunked down its landing gear!

*Like the time a steward gave me a cookie—for free!—and he didn’t offer one to anyone else! Why me? I’ll never know.

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