When Arlene Slade stepped onto the plane, the Business Class passengers turned away in disgust. She was 89 years old, leaning heavily on a cane, and her coat looked like it had seen better days in the last century. She clutched a worn-out handbag as if it contained family diamonds.
Everyone was certain: the poor grandmother had simply confused the entrance and would soon shuffle back to the tail of the plane, to Economy Class.
But Arlene stopped at the first row. She slowly lowered herself into the wide leather seat of 1A, placed her bag on her lap, and calmly stared out the window.
Silence fell over the cabin. A businessman across the aisle huffed loudly, checking the time on his expensive watch. No one could believe their eyes: this woman clearly couldn’t afford a three-thousand-dollar ticket.