You Owe Me Three Precious Upgrades

To a frequent flyer, an upgrade is the most precious thing in the entire world. More precious than your Gucci bag that costs close to your monthly rent. More precious than your entire magnet collection from all your travel destinations. And, dare I say it, even more precious to you than your pjammahs and flip flops. You become an upgrade addict—absolutely living for the next time that you earn four free upgrades (after each 10,000 miles flown on American). You even buy ones out of your own pocket. You think nothing would be better than if your friends or family bought you an American Airlines gift card for your birthday (hint, hint).

On one particular Sunday night, you check the seats on-line—the flight is packed, you are dreading it—and, so, you apply three precious upgrades to the Monday 6am from LGA to MIA. You’re really tired and would love to catch up on sleep before the work week begins.

You are the first person on the plane. You think of your sister who would love that—she gets some strange satisfaction with being the first person on or off a plane. You don’t feel that way, but appreciate any strong feelings and/or customs one with air travel. You settle into your First Class Window seat. You think that this was the perfect use of the upgrades.

You take our your iPod and shuffle through to your Airplane playlist when you hear the man in First Class Aisle say to you, “Do you like the iPod?” GASP. YOU ARE IN THE PRESENCE OF A TALKER. This talker is going to ruin your entire precious upgrade flight. You wonder why talkers always ask about the iPod. I mean, don’t they know about iPods, don’t they have one or have friends who do? Or, do they live in a third world country? Even those people probably have iPods from Oprah or Angelina. You look at him—he is a seemingly normal, semi-attractive, well-dressed man in his late 40s. You think about not answering him, but feel badly. Your mom trained you right. You avoid eye contact, but answer.

Jammahs: Yes, I love it.

Talker: What do you love about it?

Jammahs: Well, I love having all my music in such a compact device. I travel all the time and remember only about 1.5 years ago having a book of CDs in my carry-on.

You think to yourself that you’ve said way too much. You’ve opened up yourself up for a conversation. He can take this and run with it. Please don’t, please don’t…why, why, why did you answer like that.

Talker (in one breath): Oh, interesting. I never thought of it like that. I’ve been thinking about getting an iPod, but not sure which one. Do you recommend that model? How many gigs is it? Can I try yours? How many songs do you have? What do you do that you are always traveling?

Ugh. Talker is very loud. Talker is very smiley and cheery. Talker is probably on his 3rd cup of coffee.

Jammahs (You are so tired that you can’t process all those questions, so just go for the last one): I work for a Consulting firm.
Talker: Oh really, which one?

You think that if you say that you work for ABC Consulting that he’ll have even more questions. You’ve been trying out a tactic with the talkers over the past few weeks of saying that you work for XYZ-Obscure Consulting Group so that way it doesn’t solicit more questions. But you’ve been drinking a lot of the company kool-aid lately, so you answer:

Jammahs: ABC Consulting.

Talker: No kidding.

Talker takes out his wallet. He fishes for a business card. You know what it’s going to be before he even hands it to you.

Jammahs (trying to sound enthusiastic): Wow, you also work for ABC Consulting.

You look at his name. You freakin’ recognize it. You’ve heard his name a bunch of times as someone who is important—so important that you probably would never meet him. He’s that high up. Ordinarily, you’d be pumped to meet him, but you are just so tired and are dressed in only half of your work clothes. You look down at the flip flops that you are wearing—you were planning on changing to closed-toe shoes when you got to MIA. You are only wearing a shell and have your suit jacket over your legs as a blanket. You wished that you actually blew out your hair instead of putting it in a Little House on the Prairie braid.

You extend your hand, shake and introduce yourself.

Jammahs: Hi, I’m Jammahs. I’m out of the NYC office. I’m in the health care group.

Talker: Very nice to meet you. What project are you flying to? What is the main strategy behind it? What’s the ROI? What’s your billing rate? What’s the “ask”? What are the key deliverables?

There’s an awkward pause. You think that the upgrades g ods have not been kind to you this morning. They are punishing you for overindulging in your precious upgrades. You think how people at Talker’s level in ABC Consulting always fly First Class and how he isn’t using his hard-earned precious upgrades.

Jammahs: Well, I actually have a few of the key deliverables right here in my carry-on.

Talker: Great, I’d love to take a look.

You hand him several Power Point presentations and think that will keep him quiet for a while. Nope, he asks you to explain. You explain for about the next 30 minutes. He then asks you the three things that you love and hate about ABC Consulting. You tell him for the next 15 minutes. Then, there are follow-up questions. Follow-up questions that make you think you are defending a dissertation, lobbying Congress or, dare I say it, interviewing for a job (that you already have):

Talker: So you’re in health care…let me ask you some questions that are on my mind: What do you think contributes to rising health care costs in America? Do you think that there will ever be national health insurance? How do our service offerings fit in best to the current health care system?

You look at your watch. It’s in the 7s. It’s way too early to be discussing the health care landscape in America. You dig deep.

Jammahs: Well, the health care system is a mess.

You go on and on talking about interest groups, clinical information systems, safety net hospitals, Medicare Plan D….You talk for at least five to seven minutes without taking a breath. Once you start, you can’t stop. You end with:

Jammahs: But that just means more work for ABC Consulting, right?

Spoken like a true sell-out to the private sector.

Talker laughs. You giggle.

Talker: Jammahs, that's all very interesting.

It was very concise. No follow-up questions. No discussion. There’s an awkward pause.

You think, sweet Jesus…YOU have become the talker. This can’t be.

Awkward pause.

Talker: Well, if you don’t mind, I have this thing, well I know that it’s sort of odd, but I find that it’s helpful. Each week on the Monday morning flight..welll…I meditate. It’s just sort of me-time that I use to reflect on my life and the week ahead.

You think that’s why this guy is at the top of ABC Consulting. The man is a genius. You can’t wait to use that excuse on the next Talker that you encounter.

Jammahs: That’s a great idea. Enjoy.

More than half of the flight is over and all you can think of is how tired you are. How tired you are and how this talker owes you three precious upgrades. How tired you are, how this talker owes you three precious upgrades, and how, next Monday, you are going to sit in front of the babies in Exit Row Window.