usernamenumber (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
usernamenumber) wrote2003-09-05 11:21 pm
usernamenumber) wrote2003-09-05 11:21 pm
(no subject)
Oh, man.
So, class went great today. Chatted with Lizbeth on the phone. Looked forward to getting home.
Everything sort of went downhill from there.
I'd been planning for a few days that after eating relatively healthily all week I was going to treat myself to pizza on Friday. I mean, I'm in Chicago-- How could I not? But I ended up spending so much time reading lj, slashdot and various other distractions while "winding down" after class that I realized (with help from Lizbeth) that I didn't really have time to get pizza. I would have to just leave and try to eat at the airport instead. So I go back to hotel, get my luggage and hail a cab.
"Airport, please", I say. He responds, "which one?" and I realize that there are two major airports in Chicago and I don't remember for sure which one I'm leaving from! I dig through my bag trying to find the printout I'd made of my itinerary. I _always_ keep a printout of my itinerary in the back pocket of my bag, but this time it wasn't there! So I end up having to call Lizbeth from the cab and get her look up my itinerary so I can tell the driver where to go. Addendum: I later opened my laptop only to find that I still had the pdf version up on my screen from the night before.
Now, if the problems had stopped there I probably would have forgotten it all by now, but that was just the start. We get to the airport and I hand the cabbie my credit card.
"No card! You have cash?!"
He says in a thick middle-eastern accent and an offended tone.
Damn! I forgot that not all cabs take credit cards. I _always_ ask about that as soon as I get in a cab but this time I forgot and this time he doesn't take cards and _this_ time I have $20 in my wallet for a $35 fare! I can't remember the last time I've been so embarassed. So I ask one of the baggage claim people where an atm is. "Security." is the only response I get.
I ask the now very agitated cabbie to wait (leaving my suitcase in the car, partly as a good-will gesture and partly because I figured he'd flip completely if I looked like I was ditching him) so I go inside and ask a security person. It turns out that what the baggage guy had meant by "security" was that the only nearby ATM was on the other side of the security gate.. as in, I could go get money, but I couldn't come back out to give it to the cabbie. One person gave me vague directions to another ATM that was a nontrivial walk away. Any attempt to get a guestimate as to just how far away the other ATM was elicited blank stares. I'm about to go try and find the other ATM when I remember that my bag is in the back of the cab and it occurs to me that if I'm gone too long, the driver might think I've bailed and leave with my bag. So I decide instead to go out and tell him that there is an atm, but it's a long way away and to please believe me that I will come back.
Well, needless to say, he's pissed. "What were you thinking??" He yells at me and "this has been a very bad experience for me", like I'm a burger king employee who's served him cold fries. I repeat my offer to go to the other ATM and appologize for the 500th time. He now goes up to the same bagage guy I had asked about the ATM and tells him to "explain to him" (meaning me) that not all cab drivers take credit cards.
Remember what I said a few paragraphs about that being the most embarassing moment in recent memory? Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new winner.
Finally, the cabbie turns to me and says "How much you got? Give to me." So I give him the $20 and repeat once again that if he'd wait for me I would get him his money, to which he says "I cannot wait!" and drives off.
Really, I feel for the guy and I was a complete moron for forgetting to ask, but man. That was... trying.
Oh, but I'm not done yet.
So I go through security (without incident, thank goodness) and find my gate. I want absolutely nothing more than a nice, sit-down restaurant where I can rest and try to work through my recent experience. Sure enough, though, there are nothing but stand-up booths from which to get food and the opitons near my gate are limited to McDonals, Cinnabon and a sandwitch/pizza place. I decided to ignore the pitty-food and actual try to lift my spirits with something healthy by getting a sandwich.
...but let's back up for a second -- at the place where my class was held this week, they had a big glass fridge full of Nantucket Nectars juices. Lizbeth loves the stuff so I had grabbed a couple of bottles of kiwi-strawberry for her as a little present for when I got home. Two bottles. Two glass bottles. Full of juice. Squeezed into the top of my overstuffed bag. See where this is going yet?
Sure enough, just as I am about to order my veggie herb focaccia sandwich from a woman with some sort of slavic accent I hear a 'crash' and look down to see a broken Nantucket Nectars bottle on the floor along with 12 fluid ounces of rapidly expanding kiwi strawberry mess. I turn whole new shades of red as I appologize and tell the woman that if she has a broom or mop, I'll gladly clean up the mess. Instead, she grumbles, gets a broom, cleans it herself (the glass, at least. the juice is left there, spreading toward the terminal's carpet) returns the broom and _then_ asks me what I would like to eat. I pay for my sandwich, wondering if I can somehow squeeze between the veggies and hide, when someone else comes up and asks the woman if there are any restaurants (as opposed to the stand-up food stalls) nearby. She informs him that there is a food court a few gates back in the direction I'd come from... A food court... with tables. And chairs. Which I'd walked right past. To steal a catchphrase from someone on my friends list:
*headwall*
*headwall*
*headwall*
Hrmmph. So you begin to get a sense for how my day went. I've basically spent the afternoon/evening pissing off foreign people and getting hungrier and grumpier by the minute. Oh well, at least the sandwich was good... oh wait, it wasn't. It was, in fact, so nasty I got through about three bites despite the affore-mentioned ever-increasing hunger. But at least Lizbeth noted that there was dinner service on my flight... oh wait, the stewardess just told me that there's no dinner service on this flight.
Mmm... peanuts.
...Oh, I cannot believe this. As I write this, I am watching that same stewardess serve a complete dinner tray with an enormous (for airplane food) salad to someone in first class. AAGH! Will it never end??? Must... eat... rich... travelers! Second.. hand.. saaaalaaaad!!!!
...or something. Just about the only ammusing thing that's happened since I left work was something that went on in the periphery while I waited for my flight, writing the first part of this story. It caused me to pause my rantings and record the following:
There's a chineese guy who doesn't speak English sitting next to me and a businessman sitting next to him. The businessman is trying to make smalltalk with the Chineese guy despite the fact that the very first thing established in their conversation was that the Chineese guy does not speak English. Some snippets of conversation overheard thus far:
"A woman... wo-man... works for me. Me. Choo-Yun.. from Beijing. She and her husband Wei-Yee... Wei-Yee.. are going to Beijing for two weeks... two weeks... to Bei-jing."
...and this is the businessman talking. But wait, it gets better:
" Woman pilot. Wo-man.. fly plane. Very good. Women good pilots, fly smooth".
...I swear on all that any of you consider holy, I am not making this stuff up. The poor chinese guy could only smile and nod, trying to comprehend what this insane american was saying to him.
*SIGH* -- What a day.
ADDENDUM:
At home now. Lizbeth is nice and soft and she brings me Thai food and Babylon5 DVDs. All is well.
So, class went great today. Chatted with Lizbeth on the phone. Looked forward to getting home.
Everything sort of went downhill from there.
I'd been planning for a few days that after eating relatively healthily all week I was going to treat myself to pizza on Friday. I mean, I'm in Chicago-- How could I not? But I ended up spending so much time reading lj, slashdot and various other distractions while "winding down" after class that I realized (with help from Lizbeth) that I didn't really have time to get pizza. I would have to just leave and try to eat at the airport instead. So I go back to hotel, get my luggage and hail a cab.
"Airport, please", I say. He responds, "which one?" and I realize that there are two major airports in Chicago and I don't remember for sure which one I'm leaving from! I dig through my bag trying to find the printout I'd made of my itinerary. I _always_ keep a printout of my itinerary in the back pocket of my bag, but this time it wasn't there! So I end up having to call Lizbeth from the cab and get her look up my itinerary so I can tell the driver where to go. Addendum: I later opened my laptop only to find that I still had the pdf version up on my screen from the night before.
Now, if the problems had stopped there I probably would have forgotten it all by now, but that was just the start. We get to the airport and I hand the cabbie my credit card.
"No card! You have cash?!"
He says in a thick middle-eastern accent and an offended tone.
Damn! I forgot that not all cabs take credit cards. I _always_ ask about that as soon as I get in a cab but this time I forgot and this time he doesn't take cards and _this_ time I have $20 in my wallet for a $35 fare! I can't remember the last time I've been so embarassed. So I ask one of the baggage claim people where an atm is. "Security." is the only response I get.
I ask the now very agitated cabbie to wait (leaving my suitcase in the car, partly as a good-will gesture and partly because I figured he'd flip completely if I looked like I was ditching him) so I go inside and ask a security person. It turns out that what the baggage guy had meant by "security" was that the only nearby ATM was on the other side of the security gate.. as in, I could go get money, but I couldn't come back out to give it to the cabbie. One person gave me vague directions to another ATM that was a nontrivial walk away. Any attempt to get a guestimate as to just how far away the other ATM was elicited blank stares. I'm about to go try and find the other ATM when I remember that my bag is in the back of the cab and it occurs to me that if I'm gone too long, the driver might think I've bailed and leave with my bag. So I decide instead to go out and tell him that there is an atm, but it's a long way away and to please believe me that I will come back.
Well, needless to say, he's pissed. "What were you thinking??" He yells at me and "this has been a very bad experience for me", like I'm a burger king employee who's served him cold fries. I repeat my offer to go to the other ATM and appologize for the 500th time. He now goes up to the same bagage guy I had asked about the ATM and tells him to "explain to him" (meaning me) that not all cab drivers take credit cards.
Remember what I said a few paragraphs about that being the most embarassing moment in recent memory? Ladies and gentlemen, we have a new winner.
Finally, the cabbie turns to me and says "How much you got? Give to me." So I give him the $20 and repeat once again that if he'd wait for me I would get him his money, to which he says "I cannot wait!" and drives off.
Really, I feel for the guy and I was a complete moron for forgetting to ask, but man. That was... trying.
Oh, but I'm not done yet.
So I go through security (without incident, thank goodness) and find my gate. I want absolutely nothing more than a nice, sit-down restaurant where I can rest and try to work through my recent experience. Sure enough, though, there are nothing but stand-up booths from which to get food and the opitons near my gate are limited to McDonals, Cinnabon and a sandwitch/pizza place. I decided to ignore the pitty-food and actual try to lift my spirits with something healthy by getting a sandwich.
...but let's back up for a second -- at the place where my class was held this week, they had a big glass fridge full of Nantucket Nectars juices. Lizbeth loves the stuff so I had grabbed a couple of bottles of kiwi-strawberry for her as a little present for when I got home. Two bottles. Two glass bottles. Full of juice. Squeezed into the top of my overstuffed bag. See where this is going yet?
Sure enough, just as I am about to order my veggie herb focaccia sandwich from a woman with some sort of slavic accent I hear a 'crash' and look down to see a broken Nantucket Nectars bottle on the floor along with 12 fluid ounces of rapidly expanding kiwi strawberry mess. I turn whole new shades of red as I appologize and tell the woman that if she has a broom or mop, I'll gladly clean up the mess. Instead, she grumbles, gets a broom, cleans it herself (the glass, at least. the juice is left there, spreading toward the terminal's carpet) returns the broom and _then_ asks me what I would like to eat. I pay for my sandwich, wondering if I can somehow squeeze between the veggies and hide, when someone else comes up and asks the woman if there are any restaurants (as opposed to the stand-up food stalls) nearby. She informs him that there is a food court a few gates back in the direction I'd come from... A food court... with tables. And chairs. Which I'd walked right past. To steal a catchphrase from someone on my friends list:
*headwall*
*headwall*
*headwall*
Hrmmph. So you begin to get a sense for how my day went. I've basically spent the afternoon/evening pissing off foreign people and getting hungrier and grumpier by the minute. Oh well, at least the sandwich was good... oh wait, it wasn't. It was, in fact, so nasty I got through about three bites despite the affore-mentioned ever-increasing hunger. But at least Lizbeth noted that there was dinner service on my flight... oh wait, the stewardess just told me that there's no dinner service on this flight.
Mmm... peanuts.
...Oh, I cannot believe this. As I write this, I am watching that same stewardess serve a complete dinner tray with an enormous (for airplane food) salad to someone in first class. AAGH! Will it never end??? Must... eat... rich... travelers! Second.. hand.. saaaalaaaad!!!!
...or something. Just about the only ammusing thing that's happened since I left work was something that went on in the periphery while I waited for my flight, writing the first part of this story. It caused me to pause my rantings and record the following:
There's a chineese guy who doesn't speak English sitting next to me and a businessman sitting next to him. The businessman is trying to make smalltalk with the Chineese guy despite the fact that the very first thing established in their conversation was that the Chineese guy does not speak English. Some snippets of conversation overheard thus far:
"A woman... wo-man... works for me.
...and this is the businessman talking. But wait, it gets better:
"
...I swear on all that any of you consider holy, I am not making this stuff up. The poor chinese guy could only smile and nod, trying to comprehend what this insane american was saying to him.
*SIGH* -- What a day.
ADDENDUM:
At home now. Lizbeth is nice and soft and she brings me Thai food and Babylon5 DVDs. All is well.