When my flight finally started boarding, I felt a pang of sadness. Leaving the Capital One Lounge feels like leaving a warm pub to walk into a rainstorm. You shuffle back through the terminal past the tired, hungry masses, and you just want to whisper, “I’m sorry, you have to sit there. I’ve been living.”
Is it worth getting a credit card for? Honestly, sort of. If you fly through DFW even once a year, it transforms your trip from a chore into a mini-vacation. You go from “when will this end?” to “can my flight be delayed another 20 minutes?” It’s the airport equivalent of finding a twenty-dollar bill in your coat pocket. You weren’t expecting it, it feels like a gift from the universe, and you’ll spend the rest of the day wondering how you ever lived without it. Highly recommend.
