I had hoped to identify with someone on “The White Lotus” who was making better choices. Then Victoria Ratliff said, “I just don’t think, at this age, I’m meant to live an uncomfortable life. I don’t have the will,” and unfortunately, there I was. In the caftan. Feeling seen.
I am no longer made for gen pop. I say this as someone who stood outside Midwest clubs in subzero temperatures without a coat to avoid paying for coat check. We had money to drink indoors, but drew a firm financial boundary at surviving the walk there. I have been cold. I have waited. I have demonstrated character. I would now like somewhere to sit.
Apparently, so would everyone else. We have all reached our caftan years, including people who are 27. And hospitality has gotten very good at selling us a way out of the unpleasant parts: the priority line, the lounge, the preferred reservation, the package that promises someone has thought about our needs before we arrive.
I understand the appeal as both a customer and a marketer. Which is why I find the line outside the exclusive lounge such a fascinating little business problem.
How many of us are in here?
Premium access is an attractive product. It gives customers a reason to book directly, consolidate spending, join a program, or pay a higher annual fee. Partnerships bring in new audiences. Upgrades increase revenue from existing bookings. There are perfectly sensible reasons for every department involved to want more people enrolled.
The guest would also like a perfectly sensible explanation for why there are no chairs.
Delta’s Sky Club rules offer a glimpse of how carefully access has to be managed. Reserve cardholders receive 15 visits per Medallion year, with unlimited access unlocked through $75,000 in eligible annual spending. Even then, entry is subject to space availability. The benefit has a whole operating system behind it, because eligibility and capacity are separate calculations. Delta Air Lines
That applies well beyond airports. A hotel can distribute elite status through stays, credit cards, promotions, and status matches. Each arrangement may be profitable on its own. Together, they can create a lobby full of people who reasonably believe they should be first.
The difficult part is that admitting one more premium customer can reduce the value of the benefit for everyone already holding it. That cost rarely appears besides the revenue from the new signup.
Congratulations on the upgrade. Please stand over there.
There is also a difference between the privilege a business thinks it is selling and the relief a customer hopes to buy.
Some guests enjoy the recognition. Others want to know they can get dinner before the show, check in without losing an hour, or sit somewhere quiet between flights. For them, the premium buys a little certainty. They have enough logistics to manage at home.
When that benefit fails, the disappointment includes the money or loyalty spent trying to avoid precisely this experience. The guest has paid extra to feel a little foolish. That’s a memorable brand interaction.
Marketing leaders should care about this well before complaints arrive. Acquisition looks better when its costs are counted narrowly. A partnership can bring in valuable customers, while making an existing customer’s next stay less appealing. Both can be true in the same quarter, even if separate teams report the results.
Evaluating a premium program means following people through redemption. How often could they use the benefit when they wanted it? What happened to repeat bookings among existing members after access expanded? How much staff time went toward explaining why an advertised privilege wasn’t available?
I believe we have enough tiers
The temptation is to create another level above the crowded one. There may be demand for it. There is also a limit to how many times a customer will pay to escape a problem the previous upgrade was supposed to solve.
Better decisions start with the experience being promised. Guaranteed access needs inventory behind it. A faster line needs staffing. A benefit dependent on availability needs expectations that the marketing explains clearly, before the guest arrives holding a confirmation email and a grudge.
There is room to grow premium revenue by understanding which comforts different customers value, instead of giving every segment access to the same scarce thing. A late checkout and a reserved breakfast table solve different problems. Neither requires inventing a more expensive adjective than platinum.
I’m a willing customer for comfort. I have admitted this publicly, alongside a deeply questionable television role model. Give me a benefit I can reliably use and I’ll understand why it costs more.
Just please have a chair. I brought a coat this time and I need somewhere to put it.
