Tale of two airline lounges

As this is round 2 with the lovely Turkish Airlines, when asked if we’d like to join the rewards program. Why yes, why not. 

We got cards, and a complimentary upgrade to use the travel lounge.

Now the travel lounge has always been a mystery for me.  No doubt many travelers know precisely where the lounge is. They could find it in their sleep.  But I have never been inside a travel lounge.  I did not fully understand what they are for, and what people do there.  “Lounge” has a seedy sort of connotation for me, probably because in Kentucky, that’s where strippers might be.  I remember neon lights in the shape of a dirty martini glass (that is, the signs were dirty, I can’t judge whether the martinis were).  Might there be strippers? 

The first problem was that there is no Turkish Air lounge.  We were told to go to one of them, but I did not catch which. 

We sauntered into the Lufthansa lounge.  Double doors entered a corridor of yellow paneled wood, with soft lighting and soft, slightly clubby music emanating from, well, everywhere at once.  Like Ikea, but nicer.  Then there were intimidating metal doors ahead.  Might we have to swipe a security card?  I walked boldly, following my lifelong habit when feeling insecure—act like you are supposed to be there. 

It was an automatic door, revealing a lovely space, with leather furniture, bowls of apples and oranges.  No strippers.  I would not have been surprised to see someone with a tray of champagne flutes.  Inviting. 

Sadly, we were told that this is not the lounge for us.  There was another lounge.  An Italian lounge.

We found it with some difficulty, tucked nearly behind a desk at one of the gates.  The smoked glass double doors seemed vaguely dirty—smudged by many hands.  There was a sizeable bowl of licorice candies, and some leather sofas. Again, no strippers. 

For a bit we sat and did some organizing.  I started writing this.  Then Jen came back from the bathroom with a sandwich and a glass of prosecco.  There was a back area with many open bottles of liquor, sandwiches, and bottles of my favorite Italian soda, Chinotto.  Ah, lounge.