Friends, I recently spent three hours in a Delta Sky Lounge, and as Billy Crystal used to say, “It was mahvelous!”
I filled a plate from a breakfast buffet that included — but was not limited to — Southern grits, link sausages and adorable little pain au chocolat, and then later restocked with lunch nibblies that may have involved a spicy capicola that would have made Tony Soprano weep with gratitude. I sipped two decaf lattes while alternating between online solitaire and Season 17 of “Grey’s Anatomy,” and I delighted in silently creating backstories for my fellow fancy passengers. One guy was definitely CIA, probably on his way to Prague or Moscow or some other former Cold War chic city to chase bad guys and jump rooftops. Another was the CEO of a successful tech startup who’d been visiting her dying grandfather in Savannah to thank him for always believing in her, and I feel confident that the young family next to me were future heirs to a ketchup empire. Does the name Heinz ring a bell?
Technically, I could have enjoyed the aforementioned activities with the “regular folks” in the main terminal, but of course, it feels better in the lounge. Plus, I didn’t have to drag my luggage into the bathroom stall; I just left it at my semi-private “booth.” Most importantly, all the food and booze was complimentary. No debating whether the $18 mimosa or $20 burger is worth it. It is. Because it’s free!
So, now that I know the secret layover perks of the travel elite, how will I ever fly comfortably again? I won’t. Because it was mahvelous.
Peace out.
