Traveling business class (there is no first class on PIA) is like hanging around a lot of people with disposable income who aren’t rich enough to allow anyone to forget the price of the ticket. If you’re super rich, you never see an airport lounge. Instead your limo rolls up on the tarmac to your jet and you get in. If you’re merely rich instead of super-rich, to your NetJet, which is sort of like a FlexCar for private planes.
Sarah agreed though to allow me to spend a little extra money and not fly coach, and when I roll into JFK and am given the business class lounge entry card, I see where that money went. Flat screen tvs everywhere, a conference room, and special Internet kiosks are everywhere. There’s an extremely fast wifi network (SSID: "SwissLounge", password "a1a1a1a1a1") and newspapers from every conceivable place on the planet.
Oh, did I mention a full bar, an espresso machine, and a buffet meal being served? How could I forget… Sarah calls me and I tell her I’m spending the next weeks here, this place is stocked better than our house.