Making the "A" List

 I've never been in the "A" group.

When I was a kid, I was strictly a B student. Socially, I was either a loner or a music/theatre nerd. Notice how I spell theatre? That's how theatre nerds spell it.

As an adult, I've rarely rubbed elbows with the "A" Gays, a status conscious caste of gay men - their expensive fashion, cars, homes, and "A" list parties hold little attraction for me. My idea of a good party is to eat pizza and listen to music from the '80s. Come to think of it, I have a lot of parties by myself.

Anyway, being an "A" lister was never something to which I aspired. Until a business trip a couple of weeks ago when I had to fly Southwest Airlines.

If you've flown Southwest, you know what I'm talking about. On a normal airline you can reserve a seat ahead of time, indicating your preference of window or aisle and choosing whether to sit at the front of the plane where it's less bumpy or in the rear where you're more likely to survive a crash. On Southwest, they don't assign seats. You have to compete with other passengers while being herded onto the plane like cattle.

In order to avoid a total stampede, Southwest thoughtfully divides the passengers into three groups. When you get your boarding pass, instead of a seat number, it tells you whether you're in group A, B, or C. The A group gets to board first. The B group boards after the A group, and the C group is just pathetically out of luck, destined to fill up the middle seats, sitting crammed between two other passengers with their elbows turned inward towards their ribs.

For the first flight, I did everything right, at least what I usually do for a normal, assigned seat, airline. I logged into the Southwest web site the night before and printed my boarding pass. Out came a piece of paper with a great big C on it. Good grief! All the A and B passes were already gone. What if I'd waited to check in until I got to the airport? Could I even get on the plane?

The next day at Denver International Airport, I had to watch while the A group lined up and slowly boarded, their huge carry-on bags promising to take up even more room. Then I watched as the B group, slightly more lackluster, did the same. Then the Cs were called. My group of sad sacks. C stands for clueless, I thought. Those not savvy enough to get their boarding passes adequately early.

I'm not a very competitive person. I hate sports and I don't strive to be the first to have the latest anything (technology, car, what have you). But you'd better believe that for the return flight, I logged in exactly 24 hours before takeoff, the soonest they allow you to do it, and got an A boarding pass. I was not going to be in the Clueless group again.

My next flight isn't until November but I've already made my reservation. As I booked the ticket on the United Airlines website, I went to the graphic of the 787 Dreamliner plane and clicked on the most convenient looking aisle seat. There will be plenty of stress on that long flight. Wondering where I'm going to sit will not be part of it.