The cursor blinked, mocking me. ‘No reward flights found for these dates.’ I rubbed my temples, the faint scent of old denim and a forgotten twenty-dollar bill still clinging to my fingers – a recent, small, and utterly tangible win. Here, however, on this airline’s rewards website, my wins felt entirely theoretical. I’d tried ten different date combinations, then another eleven, for a quick escape to Portugal. Each time, the same curt refusal. A million miles, give or take a few thousand – virtual currency that felt as substantial as a whisper in a storm.
Attempted Redemptions
Booked Flight
This wasn’t my first rodeo; it was my 41st attempt, at least, to wrangle value from what was perpetually marketed as a generous reward. The air in my home office felt heavy, charged with the frustration of the unfulfilled promise. I’d painstakingly accumulated these points, chasing double-bonus categories, signing up for co-branded credit cards I probably didn’t need, all under the seductive spell of ‘free travel.’ It was a psychological trick, wasn’t it? A magnificent, sprawling illusion. We’re led to believe these programs are designed to reward us, to say ‘thank you’ for our loyalty. But the longer I stared at that ‘no availability’ message, the clearer it became: they’re designed to lock you into an ecosystem where the rules are opaque, constantly shifting, and ultimately, rigged.
The “Loyal Idiot” Experience
Harper M.-L., a food stylist I know, once
