Summer Drive-cation

I just flew up to Santa Fe, New Mexico so that I could drive back to Austin.  Technically, I flew to Albuquerque and then took a shuttle to Santa Fe, so that I could drive back to Austin.  And, as long as we are being technical, I drove to the airport, took a shuttle to the terminal, flew to Dallas, got on another flight to Albuquerque, went across the airport and got on a shuttle that took me to Santa Fe at one in the morning, got picked up by my lovely wife (even more technically on her birthday, but just barely) at the shuttle stop, then driven to the house my in-laws were renting, so I could drive back to Austin.

 

More precisely, I did all of this because I kinda sorta fucked up.  Jill and I had planned to come up earlier in the week, and, long story short*, when a work event moved from June, I neglected to remember that I was not in fact available for an all-day meeting on July 11th. I blame Microsoft Outlook.  And Leo.

 

Fortunately, we were able to move some of the dates around so that I could come up to drive back with the family.  Moving me to "just barely not in trouble."  Trouble, of course that would have been entirely my fault (after you factor out the trouble % attributable to Outlook.  And Leo the cat.)

 

If this was a product liability case, and the judge was looking to assign proportional blame, I'd estimate 38% would go to Outlook, 11% to Leo, and 51% to me.  Well, another 7% would go to my board for changing the date of the retreat.  So more like 44% my fault.  But still clearly I had the plurality of blame.  

 

So in no way am I complaining about driving, parking, flying, shuttling etc. etc. so that I could drive back to Austin.  I consider it my birthday present to my lovely wife.  And the fulfillment of my promise to help her drive back, a promise that I (and Outlook, and Leo, and my board) nearly screwed up.  With my culpability somewhere in the 40% (at least upper 30%) range. Ish.  Clearly still the plurality, or at a bare minimum, one of several key factors.

 

So I drove to the airport and I parked. I got on the shuttle bus to go to the terminal.  The nice driver told me "my name is Mike and this is shuttle #5519."  

 

He paused for a minute, then added "I tell you that in case you leave something behind."

 

That's good thinking, Mike.  Unfortunately, if I don't have the mental fortitude to ensure I keep all of my key possessions in a three minute trip to the terminal, there is absolutely no way in hell that I am going to remember your name and shuttle number.  In fact, I am absolutely sure that your name was probably not Mike, and it's just as likely that the shuttles have names that correspond with Ben & Jerry's flavors as some random collection of numbers I just made up. But thanks.

 

"Yes, I believe I may have left my passport on Cherry Garcia with Mike?"

Fortunately, as far as I can tell, I left nothing behind.

 

The flights were uneventful, save for the guy on the first flight who really really really wanted to talk to me.

 

When the flight attendant announced that we needed to turn off our electronic devices, he quipped "it's only an hour flight, people can live without their devices for that long."

Me: "Right?"

 

"Of course, I don't use them that much myself."

 

Me: "Really?"

 

"In my business, too much can be miscommunicated through email. I make sure we call each other to confirm orders."

Me: (while quietly pulling out my Time Magazine) "huh."  (Note the period and not the question mark.  I clearly signaled a polite disengage at this point).

 

"We are headed to Dallas.  Richardson actually.  Just came from Louisiana.  The service on Southwest is so much better than American.  We are heading to London next year, but we are flying American.  I'm not looking forward to that. I don't like their customer service. We just went to Cabo, where we have a time share.  It's listed as one of the top seven in the world.  We've been doing that for seventeen years."

 

Me: "this is the most interesting advertisement I have ever read.  Look at all of those side effects!  Oh, and here's an actual story.  I am turning away from you to read this interesting story, not because I don't want to talk to you.  Or because you are in desperate need of a breath mint or six." (All in thought bubble)

 

I did all of the polite "I really don't want to talk with you" things.  I read.  I tapered off my polite responses down to grunts, then head nods, then nothing at all.  Dude was undeterred.

"We bring back suitcases full of fish, and American Airline charges us.  Used to be able to bring 70 pounds, then 50.  My suitcase is 4 pounds.  We smoke some of the fish which lowers the weight.  A few times I've had to give out fish in the airport because we had too much.  Tuna, and Marlin.  Last time, I reeled in two Marlin, 150 pounds each.  No one else was on deck, so I had to do that myself.  When we first started going to Cabo, there were only two timeshares.  Now there are lots of hotels."

 

Me: "first of all, you single-handedly reeled in 300 pounds of Marlin, only to give it away in the Cabo airport?  Bullshit.  Second of all, please sir, partake of a tic tac." (all thought bubble)

 

I had to undertake the tricky yawn-into-a-nap maneuver.  I pulled it off successfully, but since I was in the last row (in the seats that don't recline), had to fake a nap sitting ramrod straight for 52 minutes.  He kept talking for a bit, so I faked a snore.  He tapered off.  I opened my eyes once and peeked over.  He had been at attention waiting for an opening, and started where he left off.

"The thing about Cabo is that there are so many tourists there.  That timeshare we stay in is close to the beach.  How long are you staying in Dallas?"

Crap. A question to be answered.  Ignoring a question is a higher level of "leave me alone" that I am not sure I am checked out on.

Me: "An hour." Yawn, back to fake sleep.

I survived the flight and made my way off the plane.  Since I was in the very last row and wouldn't be de-planing any time soon, I made the strategic decision to fake-sleep through the landing and the taxiing.  I am a heavy fake-sleeper, and can fake-sleep through anything.  In fact, I fake sleep-walked up the aisle with the guy right behind me.  Still talking.

Once in the terminal, I launched into power walk and did not look back. 

It had already been a long day, and my fake-sleep was not as refreshing as you would think.  I headed for the Starbucks.  The six young, green-clad employees all smiled at me as I approached. 

Me: "Large coffee, please."

Starbucks clerk: "Venti drip?" (I forgot to turn on my Starbucks translation app.  I switched it on).

Me: "Yes, barista, a venti drip."

Barista: "We are out of coffee." 

Me: "When will the coffee be ready?"

Barista: "No.  Our coffee machine is not working."

Me: "Then why are there six people behind the counter working at a Starbucks that has no coffee?"

Barista: "I could get you an Americano. It's the same thing."

(Starbucks translation app tells me that this is a shot of espresso, diluted with hot water.)

Me: "Then yes, young barista, an Americano is what I will have."

For the record, it is not the same thing.  It was hot water with a hint of diluted coffee flavoring.  For five dollars.

On the second flight, nobody talked to me.  Which was delightful. 

My lovely, birthday-girl wife picked me up at the shuttle stop.  I spent 31 hours in Santa Fe, then we drove home.

And that is my exciting story.  I took a flight, got coffee, then came home. 
 

 

* I do realize I am a short story long kinda guy, and not vice versa.  I tend to give long answers to short questions.  I try to anticipate the essence of what someone is asking about, and provide a rich, contextual answer that encompasses the questions they are likely to ask next, as well as the questions they didn't even know they wanted to ask.  It is a special gift to be able to anticipate the interrogatory needs of people and fulfill them before they themselves know they have those needs.  Shit, there I go again.