Ode to a Q-Club

OK, I've been a member of Qantas Club for all of two weeks, and given the numerous trips I've made over the past ten days, I've had ample opportunity to take it for a spin.

First, I must acknowledge that my membership is provided for by the fine folks at CSIRO out of respect for those of us burdened to jet around the country (or world) for the sake of science in the public interest. After listing the 14 trips I made in the last 12 months and the 12 already scheduled over the next 9, I was deemed worthy.

Now you're all familiar with airline clubs - special back rooms located in airport terminals where frequent travelers and VIPs can hide out and soak up some perks while they await their flights. The Qantas Club is Australia's most ubiquitous and upmarket of these - you walk through the doors and there's lots of genuine wood, comfy chairs, brie, espresso machines, and wine. Very nice. Every elite. Very exclusive.

Well, nice, yes. But exclusive? No way. From what I gather, Australian's are granted a membership at birth, because it appears more people are members than aren't. For example, while waiting in Melbourne for a flight to Canberra a few weeks ago in my pre-Q-Club days, I was quite shocked to find that I was one of about 5 people at the gate. But once the flight started boarding, the Q-Club masses came a running, and thus something like 95% of the flight's passengers had been hanging out together in 'Da Club. Last Tuesday, I was in the Q-Club in Townsville and I couldn't find a seat. The place was packed (granted, there was only seating for about 30 people, it is Townsville after all). So except for the free beer, brie and reading material, I would have been better off out with the small number of proletariat travelers soaking up the space in the main terminal.

Don't get me wrong. I love the Club. It does make frequent flying a bit easier. But the bottom line is Australians act like the Q-Club is hot shit and if you're inside, you're a far sight more elite than everybody on the other side of the door. The only problem is this - there's no one out there. The reason why people join the Q-Club is so they won't be lonely. So enjoy the beer, but drop the attitude. Any place that lets my chronically under-dressed ass in can't be that highbrow.