Airports
And family with airports.
In the event it was missed, completely unrelated to anything, the pay-per-view page contains less than 2% advertising. Low-fat web page?
Travel notes:
Subtitle: Excellence in customer service.
Marty called me, about a week ago. Marty is a Pisces, as it turns out, and she was running the baggage claim customer service desk, which is a lot more like a closet than a desk, and she was just alerting me to the fact that she’d found my pager. Or that the pager had been turned in. as it had escaped my luggage, somehow. First time she called, with that cheery Pisces voice, I reminded her it was early on a Sunday morning, and I probably wouldn’t remember talking to her.
She called again Saturday morning, just to remind me that she still had my pager. I was a little more awake, I thanked her and told her I’d be right out to pick it up.
When I gathered up the pager, I thanked her for her persistence, charm, wit and most of all, patience. It was one of those lessons in customer service.
There’s much, I see, that I’ve left out. Getting to the airport, what a lovely red-head looks like, all the details, save for the fact that the pager was still there. Oh never mind, it was just customer relations.
Brush with fame:
Senator Kay Hutchison (R – TX) (I think) – was on the flight. There was a little, quiet campaigning going on, amongst a very Republican looking set of housewives, but as I wasn’t approached, I was busy on a phone call, doling out astrology advice to another devout Republican, and I failed to mention the Senator. Or some of her uncharacteristic bad calls on local issues that affect me.
Won’t be voting for her, that’s for sure.
Shopping (like there’s anything else to do in Dallas?)
Andrew (Gemini) and then Whitney (Aquarius) tackled and fielded questions, both astute and inane, from me and Sister, while at the Apple store. We walked out – just like my predictions – with a handful of goodies – allegedly for Pa Wetzel, but then I wonder….
Family stories:
“Yes, I know you don’t believe it, but I’m on a low-stress, no-fat, vegetarian diet,” Sister said, while helping herself to the second end-cut of roast. Which was followed by two kinds of cake and two kinds of ice cream, as she agitated about politics. Three for three?
I’d picked up a wide-screen, digital alarm clock for Pa Wetzel, as a birthday gift, and as I pointed out, after I plugged it in, and set it up, he was leaving me with a bad image – he was starting to glance at the instructions.
Ma Wetzel, nominally, it was her birthday party, was wandering around the house, Saturday afternoon advancing all the clocks.
“So what time is it now,” Sister asked, mock sarcasm in her voice.
Ma Wetzel glanced up, “First you add an hour then subtract two….”
The fact that my sister and myself turned out so normal? It’s amazing. Just amazing.
