Just a Few Rows of Seats and a World Away From the Usual Mode of Travel

Is there a plan in the universe, or do things just happen? Philosophers and physicists have long pondered this question. But now I know the answer.

It came to me last month as I waited to board a United Airlines flight at Kahului Airport on Maui. I had a seat assignment in coach, where I always fly. My boarding pass was in hand, and my mind was on mundane matters, like whether my houseplants had died while I was away.

Then it happened.

A voice on the public address system summoned me to the counter.

A thousand things flew through my mind. I was being bumped, which seemed unlikely because there were only about 40 people waiting to board the 757, with seats for 182. Or I had left my laptop in the restroom. Or something.

“You are getting a complimentary upgrade,” the counter agent said.

My jaw dropped. “You mean to business class?”

“No, first class,” she replied.

“This has never happened to me,” I said. “Why are you doing this?” (Of course I had not said I was a reporter.)

She smiled and said, “Well, you don’t have to take it if you don’t want.”

Great Jones! Of course I wanted it. First class. Imagine. On my honeymoon, my husband and I were moved up to premium economy seats from coach on a Virgin Atlantic flight from New York to London, but that was back in the dark ages. And once, on a TWA flight from St. Louis to L.A., I was assigned to a big seat by chance, because the airline was reconfiguring and hadn’t gotten around to replacing the plane’s business class seats with narrower coach seats. Still, I didn’t get any of the other perks--the hot towels, free cocktails, lavish meals--that usually go with business class.

In first class on the Maui-L.A. flight, I got it all, beginning with a seat 201/2 inches wide, with 38 inches of pitch (the distance between seats, in the upright position). It was bliss out of the blue compared with a coach seat on the Boeing 757, with a width of 17 inches and pitch of 31 inches. I had an adjustable head support, a wide armrest and three pouches on the seat back in front of me, including one for eyeglasses.

Before takeoff, a flight attendant came by with guava juice and champagne. The menu offered a choice of three entrees: macadamia nut-crusted chicken breast, grilled filet mignon or crab cakes. I ordered a scotch and soda with a twist, and when it came the flight attendant said she would bring more scotch if the drink didn’t suit me. Dinner--the crab cakes--was served on white napery, with real metal utensils and darling miniature salt and pepper shakers. And the hot towels on departure and arrival made me feel as fresh as a plumeria. It’s the little things that separate first class from the unwashed masses.

Never in a million years, however, would I have paid for a first-class fare just for the crab cakes and hot towels. A first-class seat on the Maui-L.A. United flight costs $2,501, while the lowest restricted coach fare is $464.

Ed Perkins, former consumer advocate for the American Society of Travel Agents, said I was lucky to get the upgrade. “There are always more people eligible for upgrades and wanting them than there is space available,” he says. Airline experts say that few people in first class actually pay the first-class fare; most are high-level members of frequent-flier clubs who have paid a full coach or business class fare and know how to work the upgrade ropes.

Once upon a time, dressing nicely and asking sweetly for an upgrade at the gate got you into first or business class from coach. “Gate agents used to have more authority to upgrade,” Perkins says. “Now frequent-flier programs have systematized upgrades.”

Still, there’s disagreement about whether charm, good looks and bribes can get coach passengers into first or business class. Rudy Maxa, a Washington, D.C.-based travel expert, got an upgrade on a flight from Paris to Washington by giving the crew a chocolate gateau. He told them he and his companion were on diets and couldn’t eat it. To get this kind of upgrade, Maxa says, “you’ve got to act like you’re pure of heart.”

I’m not a good enough actress to get an upgrade this way. On the Maui-L.A. flight, I got mine because I had recently accrued enough miles to graduate from the airline’s basic Mileage Plus frequent-flier program to Premier status, which requires travelers to rack up 25,000 miles or 30 paid flight segments in a year. In appreciation for my loyalty, I was given, among other things, the promise of four upgrades, each valid for a 500-mile flight (hence a 2,000-mile flight requires four upgrades), on trips within North America for every 10,000 miles I fly. I also get a chance to travel in an Economy Plus seat. Those seats make up the first six to 11 rows in United’s coach sections, offer up to 5 inches extra pitch and are available to Premier Mileage Plus members on a first-come, first-served basis.

After my Maui-L.A. windfall, I called United to find out why I had been so blessed. Spokeswoman Chris Nardella said the airline was reluctant to reveal guidelines on how and why people get complimentary upgrades because they might start expecting them. “It all depends on the operational day and the loads on a plane,” Nardella said.

Clearly, though, it also depends on whether you’re a frequent flier with a full-fare coach ticket. Airlines use upgrades to reward loyal customers.

So if you want an upgrade, dress well and be nice. But also travel enough with an airline to achieve elite frequent-flier status, because the airline universe really does have a plan.