So then she said, "Would it kill you to wear a blazer and some lipstick?"

Since I fly about 8,000,000 miles a year for work (at least, that's how it feels), and therefore airlines occasionally value my business, I had a complimentary upgrade to first class for my flight yesterday. Nice, right? You know what's less nice?

Having the lady guarding the check-in line for First Class snag me by the arm as I walked past her and, pointing to the other, busier lines, tell me, "You have to go down there."

I looked pointedly at her hand - wondering why people touch me - but said politely, "I'm going to Colorado Springs."

"That's Line Four," she said.

"And I'm going first class."

"Oh." Suddenly I no longer required physical restraint. The clunky older guys in suits waiting behind me were relieved that we were all moving forward again.  I noted none of them were summarily redirected.

I should really start wearing something nicer when I fly. I guess my Aeropostale jeans, flip-flops and no makeup aren't cutting it.