Dear airlines, please stop pitching your credit cards at 33,000 feet

I have never considered flying to be a luxurious experience, and this trip was no exception. I don’t think I’m speaking out of turn when I say that all I or anyone else on the flight from Dallas to Detroit on Christmas morning wanted was for it to be over as quickly as possible.

I had waited in the inevitable jetbridge backlog, found my seat, dutifully ignored the safety briefing, and was ready to see if I could manage an hour or so of sleep. As the plane reached cruising altitude, I — having momentarily gained the upper hand in the case of Pestritto v. airline seat — began to slip into a light doze.

In the back of my mind, I knew it was coming, but