Friday, December 9, 2016

Time is running out

"Welcome Mr Bingham."
 The man smiles slightly as he realizes he's back on the road again. The strange mix of professionalism and comfort to make you feel like you're with family when you don't know a single person in the room. He sets his things down in the airport club knowing that they will be safe while he grabs a cup a coffee.

The man sits down in the worn out and faded lounge chair with his cup of coffee and looks beyond the window in front of him. He sees a plane slowly getting ready to take off while another is landing. "It's all so simple," the man thought. Up, down, repeat. Unload, reload. Limited communication in the blue abyss of the endless simple.

What a run the man has had over the years of travel. Flying in luxury, achieving the highest status, going where the wind took him. The man sighed. Company policies were changing and the man's comfort was slowly being taken from him and the year was coming to a quick close.

Like all travelers, the man was thinking about the next year and what status awaited him. In previous years he never needed to worry because traveling 80% of your time far exceeded highest status on any airline. Now the man, like other travelers, crunched the numbers for flights in his head trying to figure out if his comfort status was within reach.

It almost felt surreal to the man. No matter how he worked the numbers, he wasn't going to make it. It was as if the home the man worked so hard to build over the years was being taken away from him. The man understood that it was only a matter of time, but change is never easy. The next year awaited the man, change was eminent.

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