THE AIRPORT-LOUNGE ARMS RACE

Inside the ever more extravagant competition to lure affluent travelers

- AMANDA MULL

On a bright, chilly Thursday in February, most of the people inside the Chase Sapphire Lounge at LaGuardia Airport appeared to be doing something largely absent from modern air travel: They were having fun. I arrived at Terminal B before 9:30 a.m., but the lounge had already been in full swing for hours. Most of the velvet-upholstered stools surrounding the circular, marble-topped bar were filled. Travelers who looked like they were heading to couples' getaways or girls' weekends clustered in twos or threes, waiting for their mimosas or Bloody Marys or the bar's signature cocktail-a gin concoction turned a vibrant shade of violet by macerated blueberries, served in a champagne coupe.

Other loungers in the golden-lit, plant-lined, 21,800-square-foot space chatted over their breakfast, boozy or otherwise. At the elaborate main drink station that formed one wall of the lounge's dining room, I chose the tap that promised cold brew, though spa water and a mysterious third spigot labeled only as "seasonal" beckoned. When I reached for what I thought was a straw, I pulled back a glistening tube of individually portioned honey, ready to be snapped into a hot cup of tea. 

While I ate my breakfasta brussels-sprout-and-potato hash with bacon and a poached egg ordered using a QR code, which also offered me the opportunity to book a gratis half-hour mini-facial in the lounge's wellness area—I listened to the 30-somethings at the next table marveling about how nice this whole thing was. That's not a sentiment you'd necessarily expect to hear about the contrived luxury of an airport lounge. In the context of air travel, nice has usually meant nice relative to the experience outside the lounge's confines, where most of your choices for a meal are markedup fast food eaten at a crowded gate, or the undignified menu truncation of a Chili's Too.