Y’all Be Goin’ On Vacation?
Greetings from the A-T-L! The company flew me to Atlanta for some training this week, and I chose to take the direct flight, which means flying Delta. I’d only flown Delta once before, and it wasn’t a very pleasant experience. This flight was better, but still not enough to change my opinion of the airline; when I ask for cream in my coffee I don’t want milk, for the love of Pete, I want cream!
The marginal service, fortunately, was mitigated by my seatmate; a fascinating young woman, who was raised in Utah by Quakes, and is now working on her PhD in Violin performance. Quality conversation during air travel is always appreciated. She told me this interesting story about how the TSA is profiling musicians. Outrageous!
I had another interesting conversation with a fellow from New Hampshire while waiting for the hotel shuttle. He’s in town with HP for a group meeting involving a number of European colleagues. He was expecting one to meet him at the depot. When he didn’t show we departed, only to be turned around for a late arrival. When we picked up the new guy Mr. New Hampshire says “Are you, by any chance, Paul?” And he answers, in a London accent, that he is, indeed, Paul. So my main New Englander assumes it’s his contact and strikes up the conversation. Ten minutes later we find out that He had the wrong Brit named Paul – this Paul works for Kimberly Clark in marketing. HA! All those English guys look the same anyway, how can anyone tell them apart?
Then I had a third interesting conversation with the front desk agent here at the Doubletree Suites. Her name is Fatou, and she is from Senegal. During her tour in the Peace Corps Mrs. Fishpimp was stationed in The Gambia, which, save for about 15 miles of coast on the Atlantic, is completely surrounded by Senegal. Her village called her Fatou also. We chatted for a few minutes about Dakar, where I was stranded for three days after visiting the future Mrs. Fishpimp. Turns out my Flight was at 1 AM, not 1 PM as I had previously thought. But that’s another story for another entry, it’s time for me to go spend some per diem money on a cocktail!
The marginal service, fortunately, was mitigated by my seatmate; a fascinating young woman, who was raised in Utah by Quakes, and is now working on her PhD in Violin performance. Quality conversation during air travel is always appreciated. She told me this interesting story about how the TSA is profiling musicians. Outrageous!
I had another interesting conversation with a fellow from New Hampshire while waiting for the hotel shuttle. He’s in town with HP for a group meeting involving a number of European colleagues. He was expecting one to meet him at the depot. When he didn’t show we departed, only to be turned around for a late arrival. When we picked up the new guy Mr. New Hampshire says “Are you, by any chance, Paul?” And he answers, in a London accent, that he is, indeed, Paul. So my main New Englander assumes it’s his contact and strikes up the conversation. Ten minutes later we find out that He had the wrong Brit named Paul – this Paul works for Kimberly Clark in marketing. HA! All those English guys look the same anyway, how can anyone tell them apart?
Then I had a third interesting conversation with the front desk agent here at the Doubletree Suites. Her name is Fatou, and she is from Senegal. During her tour in the Peace Corps Mrs. Fishpimp was stationed in The Gambia, which, save for about 15 miles of coast on the Atlantic, is completely surrounded by Senegal. Her village called her Fatou also. We chatted for a few minutes about Dakar, where I was stranded for three days after visiting the future Mrs. Fishpimp. Turns out my Flight was at 1 AM, not 1 PM as I had previously thought. But that’s another story for another entry, it’s time for me to go spend some per diem money on a cocktail!
posted by Fishpimp | 4:29 PM
2 Comments:
On a plane one time, I sat next to a minister that would not leave me alone. He went on and on about his parish, and God, and yada yada. I was too polite to put on my headphones that were clearly visible around my neck.
Finally, after about an hour and a half, he goes, "So, how do you feel about sex?" I put my headphones on immediately, rude be damned.
hahaha... another man who gets AM and PM mixed up. fred does the same, twice now I've gotten the call while scrubbed or just going to lunch... "hun, my flight is uh... am, not pm... will you still be able to pick me up?" But of course my love, anything for you... hanging up phone.. thinking how driving the airport at 3am is going to suck ;) (but for him... anything)
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