Monthly Archives: November 2011

Thankful

23 Wednesday Nov 2011

Posted by in Holiday Hell, It's not always so bad

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In honor of Thanksgiving, from the archives. Thanksgiving 2010.

Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-BDL

In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m a little neurotic sometimes. Especially as it pertains to flying. I carry the exact same liquids (which I pack in the exact same order in their baggie) on every flight. I methodically engineer my suitcase to balance weight and category of each item. I use the same security line at MSP. Everything goes on the conveyer belt in the same order. You catch my drift.

Knowing this, you can probably guess how well I take to any deviation in my carefully devised craziness, especially when set to fly the Wednesday evening before Thanksgiving Day. So when E suggested we bring a pie home with us from Salty Tart to Thanksgiving with his family, well, I was not on board (“It cuts down on a carry-on!”, “It’s supposed to stay refrigerated!”, “What if TSA decides it’s not packaged properly and throws it away?!”). Luckily for him (and [grumble] me), E has learned to take my resistance in stride and move forward with plans he knows are a good idea.

After scouring the Delta website, we ascertained that we could, in fact, bring the pie. Now my primary arguments were down to carry-on quantity and refrigeration. E’s usual mantra in life is that things will just work out and I must say this proves remarkably true for him. Not only did the pie make it through security unmolested, the ladies of the Delta Lounge even let us use their employee refrigerator to keep it cool before we left on our flight.

And it was a huge hit at the Thanksgiving table.

On that note, things related to flying for which I’m thankful:

1. Intrepid E – my favorite flying companion.

2. Great family I’d fly anywhere to be with.

3. The friends I can see without going to the airport and those that require a cross-country flight.

4. A tiny dog that I would never ever try and fly with. Oy gevalt.

5. Delta lounges with Wi-Fi and fully stocked bars.

6. Not having to do it this year. Staying home with E and the fur ball=Bliss.

Wishing you and yours a happy, safe, flight-nightmare-free Thanksgiving!

Golden

18 Friday Nov 2011

Posted by in Fun with Security

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Trip type: Business

Airline: Delta

Route: ATL-MSP

I know you’ve all been anxiously awaiting the moment I solidified Gold status* for next year (no? just me? well, you’re here reading already so go with it.) and I’m glad we could all be here together at this exciting time as I tell you that it’s mission: accomplished. Cue streamers.

Solidified for another year.

Other than our collective excitement, I have more to share because, naturally, this momentous occasion could NOT be accompanied by an enjoyable experience at the airport.

Never one to underestimate Atlanta area traffic, I arrived nice and early for my 12:30 flight home yesterday. As I queued into the security line, a gentleman slightly ahead of me caught my attention immediately. Surprisingly, it wasn’t the strong scent of stale scotch, lack of socks with dress shoes or extremely rumpled suit that assailed me at first, it was my hearing as I was forced to listen to his discussion of the…um… entertainment’s ethnicity from the previous night.

“I thought she was Estonian but it turns out she’s from Chattanooga! I know! Just an ethnic-looking hill-billy!”

I raised my eyebrows disapprovingly at him but his eyes were so glazed over that I doubt he noted it.

Blessedly, the call ended shortly thereafter. Perhaps I spoke too soon about him not noticing me, however:

“You’re from New York.” (Looking directly at me. Well, mostly. His eyesight was none too steady.) “Are you going to New York?”

“No.”

“F***.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you want to come to New York with me?”

“I’m going home to my husband in Minneapolis.”

Then he started singing “St. Juuuuudddeeee….” to the tune of “Hey, Jude” because he was just in Minneapolis at St. Jude Medical. I put on my best appalled face which was unfortunately accompanied by furious blushing due to our exchange.

Luckily, at this point it was his turn to scan in and then he immediately got preoccupied trying to jump the rest of the security line as his flight was in 20 minutes (finally confirming my suspicion that he had literally rolled out of bed and somehow gotten himself to the airport.)

It was mostly uphill from here, although I did have to sit next to a woman who was clearly a smoker and wanted an iPhone tutorial for most of the flight. “Can you believe I just got this? I have no idea what I’m doing!” You don’t say.

To another year of Delta adventures as I start the Gold-quest all over again…

*I’m fully aware that Gold status means approximately nothing, but it’s the little things that make one happy, you know?

The Battle of Elbow

14 Monday Nov 2011

Posted by in Monday Madness, Seatmate Shenanigans

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Trip type: Business

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-ATL

Much like the Battle of Elba in 1652 (AP European History geek), the Battle of Elbow is one that’s of critical importance whilst flying. Placing one’s elbow early is imperative. Especially as a smaller person, I find that if I don’t already have my elbow space claimed when my neighbor arrives, the chances of me getting it are slim to none.

A tad melodramatic perhaps (especially as I owe the AP the photo credit) but surely my fellow road warriors can commiserate.

I decidedly lost the battle on this week’s journey south. Although I arrived before my armrest sharing seatmate and had plotted my elbow-flag if you will, this was one of those delightful situations where my neighbor was too large for me to do anything but retract my arm altogether for fear of losing more than a place to rest my weary elbow.

For whatever reason, every time I am upgraded, even just to the exit row (as was the case this morning), I will always, always, get a seatmate who needs a little of my seat as well as his own.* Is this evidence that the travel gods are exacting their revenge for me being in an exit row since my feet barely extend under the seat in front of me in a normal row? Maybe. Probably. Definitely.

In case you are enjoying some schadenfreude, let me put the icing on your cake with two words about my friend in 11B: Sleep. Apnea.

It was a long flight.

*This post is in no way meant to be disparaging to larger people. I understand that seats are smaller than the average American. Discomfort just makes me grouchy.

Texas Calling

09 Wednesday Nov 2011

Posted by in It's not always so bad

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Trip type: Personal

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-AUS // AUS-MSP

As alluded to in Monday’s post, last weekend also brought the opportunity to travel for fun and the travel itself was actually rather enjoyable (so much so that E is now convinced I just make up the rest of this blog).

Glorious leg room

The flight to Austin came complete with an exit row (the glares from tall people are almost as delicious as the ridiculous leg room–see picture where I’m actually sitting on the very edge of the seat to get my feet this far forward).

Because we were on a Barbie jet, we had to gate-check our roller bags. I really enjoyed the Delta guy unloading the bags loudly muttering to himself when everyone was crowded in the jetway waiting to retrieve bags after the flight (“Can’t anyone read the signs? What is the matter with people?!”)–as if we were choosing to loiter and annoy him.

The flight home from Austin went smoothly as well, but the gate agent was one of the weirder representatives I’ve seen. He’s clearly been relegated to a corner of the Austin airport all on his lonesome for far too long (and perhaps with just cause).

At first I thought perhaps he was just a little off (like when he would make “announcements” every few minutes which pretty much just consisted of him babbling incoherently until he lost his train of thought and drifted off mid-sentence) but when it came time to start boarding, I decided he was just looking for some validation of importance. Why, you ask? Because he called roll for first class. Yes, one by one. He called their names and scanned their boarding passes individually. Happily, just when I was starting to worry that the entire boarding process would go in a similar vein, he jumped to zones.

The rest of the flight was smooth and we got home just in time for me to repack for this week’s adventure to Atlanta. If only I could have found a way to work my newly purchased cowboy boots into work attire…

Yee-haw!

(Desired) Death of a Salesman

07 Monday Nov 2011

Posted by in Seatmate Shenanigans

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Trip type: Business

Airline: Delta

Route: MSP-ATL

If you know better than to engage a commercial linoleum salesman in conversation, you might be smarter than [someone who’s the same height as] a fifth grader.

This morning’s trip started off smoothly, despite it putting me back at the airport only 15 hours after I’d stepped out of it (more on that to come). Then I met Kurt (maybe with a C but I feel like it’s a K). And it went a little something like this:

Kurt: Good morning.

Me: Good morning.

K: Business or pleasure?

Me: At 6am it better be business. You?

K: Business. On my way to Birmingham to sell a public storage company some linoleum.

(Intuition tells me to say something non-committal. Curiosity wins.)

Me: Linoleum?

K: Yeah, I sell commercial linoleum.

(Intuition and curiosity spar again. Guess who wins.)

Me: Interesting.

K: It really is! (Oh boy.)

Kurt then regales me with some finer points of linoleum installation which I will gloss over for sake of your sanity and mine (apparently it’s very different to install in different climates–who knew?!). Then he segues into telling me how he helped a friend install some linoleum this weekend.

Kurt: Menard’s is really in trouble though! They didn’t wrap the pallet correctly so the roll  bursted through my pickup’s window on the drive home!

Me: (couldn’t resist) Bursted?

K: Yeah, bursted right through!

(In Kurt’s defense, dictionary.com does list bursted as a past-tense option of burst but I think we can all agree that it sounds stupid.)

Luckily/unluckily, Kurt’s coworker showed up to occupy the seat next to him at this point in the conversation. Luckily, it took Kurt’s attention off of me. Unluckily, it meant I got to hear in even more detail how the linoleum roll bursted through his truck’s back window and how he’s going to litigate Menard’s if he has to.

Needless to say, I was more than a little stabby by the time we hit 10,000 feet and I could finally plug in some music.

[On an unrelated note, there were two amazing mullets on my flight as well. One was a kid which I guess I should forgive and one was a woman who must have been 40-ish. She literally looked like she’d been let out of a time capsule earlier today with her complete 80s look of tapered jeans, high tops and a mock turtleneck. Unless acid wash jeans are making a come back in which case I’m screwed.]