Flying Without Clubs – Is It Possible?

by Robert McGarvey

I am here to testify: I have now flown without airport clubs and I have survived. I tell this story down below.

But, first, the day started at Sky Harbor in Phoenix where I was just able to squeeze into the Centurion because, by my count, there were a very few empty seats when I entered around 8:30 am on a Friday.

There was a line at the coffee machine and a line at the breakfast buffet but, to be fair, the buffet (don’t tell my cardiologist) featured tasty scrambled eggs,  decent ham slices, and sausage links (pork).  I am not sure I could have rustled up a similar breakfast at the many airport restaurants – but maybe a breakfast burrito ($11.99) at Bobby’s Burgers would work (I’m something of a Bobby Flay fan but have not yet eaten at this new Sky Harbor outpost). Add coffee and a tip, that’s $20.00. Possibly too the Brioche Breakfast Roll at Mark Tarbell’s The Goods, $16.49.  Coffee and a tip and it’s $25.00. Tarbell, incidentally, is a celebrity chef in Phoenix, although I don’t think he has a national profile.

Score one for the Centurion – a good breakfast, acceptable coffee, and, yes, a place to sit.  The space was crowded but certainly outside at the gates was no better. And I saved $20 to $25.

Where my eyes opened wide however was at my destination, Love Field in Dallas where, as far as I can tell, there are no clubs, certainly none that I have access with Amex Plat, Priority Pass or Diners Club. Absolutely none.

Arriving there, that was of no consequence since we were in a hurry to exit the airport and get to downtown Dallas and into Nobu for what was an excellent omakase dinner.  Understand, I am no fan of chef’s “tasting menus” – usually too many courses, too much ego.

But the advantage of omakase is that it’s assembled by people who really know what they are serving whereas I am no expert in sushi or Japanese cuisine.  

And at Nobu the omakase is lovely.  

It was on the return flight from Love where I learned to really accept flight without clubs and, you know what, it’s not so bad.

For starters I cut down how much time I planned to spend in the airport.  I had been allowing a sizable chunk of time to provide for time lost to security in getting to the gate and, in the event my passage through TSA was fast, I always had a club to retreat to.

Lately, however, TSA Pre has worked fairly smoothly and swiftly so I often have had an hour to spend in a club and these clubs really aren’t worth an hour, not on any kind of regular basis.

At Love I had maybe 40 minutes until boarding after clearing security – and there happened to be a Starbucks with no line near the gate so I bought a latte and grabbed a seat. I pulled out my phone and skimmed email. There probably was noise around me but I didn’t hear it – I was immersed in my reading, sipping my latte, and oblivious to my surroundings.

Pretty soon Southwest had us assemble in its idiosyncratic queue where I was in position A 40 which meant I had most of the seats available to me.  Within a couple minutes I was in the plane, seated and back on my phone, this time reading which I did until we landed in Sky Harbor, maybe two hours, fifteen minutes later.

Did I miss the ritual of the club?

Nope.

Truth is, I came to the club life rather late in my passenger life. Perhaps because when I started flying for business, the ritual at the companies I flew for was to stop at an airport bar, have a beer or a martini to “calm the nerves” (not that I had a fear of flying, but such drinks were expensable in that era so why question the ritual) and in those years the bars were usually oases of quiet.  

Honestly I didn’t know I “needed” a club until I got the Platinum card and, rather quickly, I found myself addicted to the club stop.

Just maybe I am now breaking that addiction.  One flight at a time.

If I can do it, you can too.