The Sky Line

 A certain hierarchy of the sky is established through an invisible line on airplanes that thinly separates the first class from coach passengers. I temporarily felt the stinging split of the extra foot in space that divides the two cabins as a standby passenger on my flight to Orange Country today. I was assigned seat 4A, the very first row of coach, behind first class. I watched as their flight attendant handed out plush pillows and cozy blankets and orchestrated a pre-takeoff beverage service to the 11 lucky travelers. My fellow 4A friends and I had no choice but to stare at the privileged passengers, only inches in front of us, be granted with special treatment which we all silently envied. The cup of coffee being poured to the large man in seat 3B would have been greatly appreciated considering my morning had begun at 3am to make my first flight. I sat there, dreamily drowning in the cup of caffeine being served when a blonde airline angel from above approached me, and sang, “The last seat in first class is open for you if you would like to move up.” I sleepily smiled, grabbed my purse and left behind my coach comrades to join the chosen ones in front. In my mind, I thanked my dad for his career as a pilot, which can sometimes allow me to have access to this kind of special treatment when I travel. So here I sit, coffee in hand, sinking into my oversized seat, feeling the burn of the stares from the people right behind me. I know how it feels to be the person on the other side of the dividing line of privileged travel service, but today I am blessed and thankful for my first class promotion.