Would I Die for the Filipino?
At the check-in counter queue alone, I’d never felt so humiliated for my being Filipino (or Asian, if that’s the case). Seeing that the Business Class counter had been idle for a while, this check-in usher eagerly asked a Caucasian couple before me if they were Business/First Class passengers. “No, we’re flying Economy…” Despite that, the usher very warmly, with a wide smile, led them to the Business Class counter and said it’s open anyway. The couple responded positively and thanked him.
When the couple finished—which would have been my turn already—I asked the same usher if I could claim my boarding pass from that Business Class counter as all the economy counters were so busy dealing with passengers hauling a handful of bags.
He did not even look me in the eye. He simply reached his palm out to me with a cold, “Show me your passport and itinerary.” Both of which I handed to him. After flipping through the identity page, he coldly broke the bad news to me, “That counter is only for Business Class passengers” in Filipino. I dared not argue as I thought this Caucasian-sucking ignoramus was not worth any trouble.
