Art Vandelay, Latex Saleseman

How does one sum up a trip with some of the oddest stories ever?

Art Vandelay, Latex Salesman.

Odd?  Well that's literally how the trip started.  First night in Florida, after landing, checking in, and making the first of many Publix runs, we went to the local Chili's for dinner.  After all, it was Orlando, and when in Rome....

After rejoicing at the $4.99 kids menu, an odd man came to visit us.  He was not our waiter.

He was wearing a pin that read "Art Vandelay, Latex Salesman".

After laughing a bit and cracking a few jokes ("the sea was angry that day my friends....") we ended up chatting a bit with this fellow New Yorker/ magician/entertainer/balloon man.  We've never before met a balloon man that wasn't creepy.  He regaled us with stories of his travels.  Spoke of Southern hospitality that blew him away.  The slower pace of life outside New York.  The jokes non-New Yorkers just don't get.  He continued to entertain the adults, giving us insider tips on fun Disney things on the cheap as he made amazing balloons.  Most notable, this is the first balloon man we've ever met that is not creepy.

That's the bizarro world that belongs to Art Vandelay.

What else comprised this interesting trip?

Well, it's a story involving bizarre events such as car vomit, chefs who love food allergies, staying in Florida to avoid a hurricane, and repeated good customer service from an airline.  It's a three-act tale of life in an alternate universe:


Scene 1:  LaGuardia airport, gate 7


A nervous mother walks up to the gate.  After fighting with security about the soy nut butter jars in our bags, showing the epipen and explaining it to several employees and a manager that we can't buy it in Florida, we are ready for the usual eyerolling at the gate when we ask about peanuts we know they serve on board, hoping they have a heart.  Faster than you can say "peanu-....", we're shocked by the immediate understanding and knowledge they exhibit when hearing this.  They nod and immediately pick up a walkie-talkie, springing into action as if they actually know what a severe allergy means and have had some kind of training on the subject.  As if.

"We have a peanut allergy in 21 alpha.  I repeat, captain, peanut allergy in 21 alpha.  Over."

Some static and mumbling on the receiver.

"Copy that, sir.  We're clear."

He then turns to this mother and smiles:

"All set, ma'am.  We're clearing a peanut-free zone 3 rows ahead and behind.  Enjoy your flight."

We are flabbergasted.  No fight? No pleas? No protest? They just....helped?

Bizarro airline service experience #1.

Scene 2: Dinner at a Disney resort restaurant

"Hi, we have some food allergies at the table and had a few questions."

"Right away, ma'am."

Out comes Chef Brian.

"We can make anything you want.  I just reviewed your allergies as they were noted in the reservation.  We have a designated fryer. I'd stay away from the pasta, because that's made in a plant with seeds.  The pizza should be ok.  What sides do you want us to make you?"

He rattles off about 27 safe options.  Excuse me?  Have we died and gone to heaven?

We pick pizza with a side of peas.  Chef Brian comes out two minutes later.

"So I double checked our pizza as per our policy, and we just switched vendors who does not have a dedicated facility.  We have a supply of special allergy free pasta in our closet, we can make you any kind you want. Alfredo? Sauce? Fancy mac and cheese style?"

Mini picks mac and cheese.  Chef Brian tells us just to code it as a "pasta kids meal", giving us this very expensive allergy-gluten-free pasta with custom made bechamel sauce for $5.99.  We are too stunned to speak.

"Oh, and I see in your reservation you placed an order for a special chocolate cake for the table?"

We find our words again.

"Yes, we spoke to the bakery twice but wanted to double check that you really can..."

"Way ahead of you ma'am.  The mix we use is made in a dedicated nut, seed, egg, soy, dairy free facility.  We made it with egg replacer instead of eggs, knowing that she has an egg allergy, using sanitized equipment.  I just got off the phone with the bakery again myself, because it's our policy not just to double check, but to triple check these things.  Chocolate frosting ok?"

Now we are beyond tongue-tied.  Visions of the mini in a white flower girl dress as we step into a future of bliss with Chef Brian start popping into our head.  Chef Brian is our hero.

Our fantasy is interrupted a few minutes later by a waiter carrying a balloon and treats, along with a loud gong sound.  Apparently on every special occasion they announce it to the whole restaurant so they're all one "family".  This occasion?  Some 7 year old in another table made a nice picture and they want to randomly reward her for it.  We swear you can't make this stuff up.

They come out a little later with the gong, holding a giant chocolate cake.  We know it's not ours, because it's way bigger than we paid for, and fancy bakery style.  As we wonder how many of these gong hits we're going to have to sit through before we finally get our treat, the cake holder starts talking about a special family reunion.  Clearly going to the table next to us.  How do we know? It's written all over them. Literally.  15-20 people sitting at a table all wearing t-shirts that say "Smith family reunion".

So imagine the shock of the whole place when it comes to us?  Why a family reunion, one wonders? Well, everything's a special occasion, and what else do you call it when a bunch of friends from New York get a lovely trip to Florida and want to celebrate with cake just because they feel like it and for once in their life actually can?

The fancy cake

So bizarro restaurant experience follows bizarro flight.  There's only one way to explain something like this:

Art Vandelay, Latex Salesman.

Scene 3 - several urgent telephone calls made past midnight

In a strange twist of fate, the hurricane that was headed for Florida veers north, sparing us but threatening the east cost.  The timing will surely cancel our trip home, even though the computers haven't reflected that yet.  We try the airline, hoping to rebook for a later time before people get bumped and rebooked, making it days longer before we get home.  We hear a recording announcing they've hired more staff but still have 2 hour wait times due to expected weather delays and cancellations.  Steeling ourselves for a long and painful wait, we are caught off guard when the recorded message offers to have someone call us back if we enter our cell phone number.

We try it, almost in disbelief, but remain cynical as we hang up the phone.  The clear and articulate voice tells us because we are frequent fliers we should hear back in 35-40 minutes.

Something like 45 minutes go by and nothing.  We call again, finally reaching the prompt for entering our phone number.  Surprisingly, after we do, we're told we already have a place in line, and that it's only been 34 minutes and we should get a call in 10 minutes but we can try and rebook online while we wait if that's why we're calling.

We hang up, not sure how to react.  We try online, seeing that the $50 change fee plus fare difference only amounts to $1,200 per ticket.  We prepare for the fight of the lifetime.

8 minutes later, the phone rings.  The person on the other end actually seems...helpful.  She speaks English.  She actually has our info in front of her already.  We don't have to repeat anything.  We just tell her the situation and she says yes, there is still room on the Monday flight and if we just hold a minute she'll transfer us to the change department.  She's gone before we have time to eke out a sound, much less a question, so we give our friend an "I told you so look" as we listen to the bad music.

We're about to hang up in defeat, when a person finally speaks.  They have our info, will go ahead and send us an email confirming new ticket.  And the price?

"Gratis."

"Really?"

"That's right, there's no fee, ma'am."

"But, the website says..."

"Yes, but the weather's not your fault.  We understand that so given the situation there's no fee."

Wait a second, weather? An airline? NOT the customer's fault?  Before you go into full disbelief, there's more.

The $25 each baggage fee?  Waived, given the circumstances.  After going home 2+ days later than planned, it's expected we'd have more luggage than planned.  We shouldn't have to pay for that either.

Wait, who are we talking to again?

See the average of 8 calls per airline? And we only made one easy one.  We really were in bizarro world.

We hang up and proceed to call the hotel and car rental place to ask for two more days.  Again, we prepare ourselves for a fight, ready to dive into the irony of asking to stay in Florida for a hurricane.  Of course it's not their fault, but is there anything they can do?

Of course there is.  They understand.  After all, being stuck in a lovely resort in the Florida sunshine while the alternative is to sit at home with no power, water, or Starbucks as a hurricane blows in our windows must be horrible.  It's not our fault we have to miss more work and get two more days vacation.  We shouldn't have to pay so much for that either.  The horror of sipping pina coladas for two more days is bad enough.  So 15% off the car rental for the whole week.  15% off the hotel for the last two nights.  Just for asking.

WOW.

Has anyone ever had a vacation experience like this?  Only one way to explain the bizarre, almost backwards series of events.

Wait, you haven't figured it out yet?

Humpfh.  And you want to be my latex salesman.

The Disability Rep Said WHAT?

Yet one more hoop for a parent of a food-allergic child to jump through: flying.

But what do you do when the airline flat out refuses to help your child stay safe and you've already paid $2,200 for tickets?

This story about the ignorance and lack of compassion exhibited by American Airlines representatives is appalling. 

Guests and Fish

My father reads this blog.

You'd think that would tame the sarcasm I use, or prevent me from using the f-word*.   You might also think that would prevent me from admitting I didn't get him a father's day present, and you would be wrong on all counts.

Do I feel badly about it? In a way I do, in a way I really do.  So to alleviate my guilt do something nice for the man who has put up with 29 (ahem) years of my cr-p, I write this post as a thank you.

Nancy wrote a lovely post this week about fathers in general, and one of the excellent points she makes is that every father has his unique quirk, the mini freak flag he flies at home that teaches you the one or two or three things only a father can teach.

For me, it was guests and fish.

You see, several years ago I was a foolhardy teenager pretending to be an adult due to the fact that I was already in college surrounded by people older than myself.  At that time, I had a bad case of puppy love and the object of my affection had been doing a semester abroad.  He asked me to come visit him at home when he got back, as he couldn't wait to see me any longer.  Practically begged.  And logical person that I am I spent probably the entire contents of my bank account on a flight.  Seduced by offers of a New Years' Eve party, basketball games, and a solo trip to Orlando, I planned to stay with his family for a week total.  You know where this is going, don't you?

Yes, dear father, the man who infuriatingly tells you the blunt truth even when he should be telling polite white lies (Really? You can't say things like, no your breath smells lovely, like a rose!?  It can't possibly be that hard) warned me with a finger wag so strong I could hear it over the phone.

Guests and fish, Poker Chick.  This is not a good idea.  Come home sooner.

You see, for years my father had sounded like a broken record, telling us about a saying his father used to tell him that "Guests and fish smell after three days".  (Fun fact: the original author of this quote was the man who founded the college I would one day attend, but none of us knew that at the time).  Usually this quote amused us, as it was often uttered in the context of discussing a very annoying house guest behind closed doors and Poker Chick Brother and I relished in the secret rebelliousness of the admission and swore not to tell our mother.  But he used it as a warning as well.

Good daughter that I am, I heeded his advice.

Yeah right.

I did the usual foolhardy teenage thing and informed him I could spend my hard-earned money as I liked. 

I had a great first two days. He was happy to see me, it was just as I dreamed.  Then we went to the magical kingdom (literally) and I was smugly enjoying the fact that I had been right.  Then I got dumped.  That's right, read it again.  I got dumped in the happiest place on earth.  On Christmas Eve.  Seriously, I did.  You can't make this sh-t up.

A number of factors kept me there, despite the humiliation.  First of all, there was the fact that I had spent all my money, and couldn't afford the fee to change my ticket.  Second, though I'm sure my father would have underwritten the earlier trip home, I was too damn stubborn to give him that satisfaction.  So I kept a brave face and pretended nothing had happened.  Didn't even cry, not even once.  On my last day I woke up and saw the dog (have I mentioned I am not a fan of the canine species?) had eaten the batch of brownies his mother had made for me to take home, and I reached my breaking point.  I had my heart broken, Disney world forever ruined, and now someone was messing with my dessert!? I think NOT!  This was of course, the last straw, and I packed up my stuff, went to the airport and stayed until they finally let me on a flight standby for free.

I called my father to give him the new arrival information, since I wasn't too proud to mooch a ride home.  Said I was having a great time.

The man was smart enough to add two and two and figure it out on his own, and despite keeping a stiff upper lip for several days, the minute I got off the plane and saw him I lost it.  He was kind enough just to be there and not say I told you so.  But we both knew what he was thinking.

*You might think I don't type swears out for politeness, but you would be wrong.  I have no problem typing out my mofo curse words if I want, except for the spiders.  The invisible bytes of code that crawl the web and register search results at rapid speed.  See, I got caught by the spiders once.  One innocuous blog title circa September 2007 happened to have a word in the title that brought it a lot of attention for a while.  And not the kind of attention you'd want.  I shudder at the thought.  This blog does not, I repeat NOT, contain "relevant results" if you're looking for that, thank you very much.

Happy Hour, Indeed

For the time being, Delta is back in favor with Poker Chick. First, they restored her elite status for another year. Next, she was able to use miles for a last minute transcontinental flight and even get an upgrade. No, she’s not here to gloat. It’s just that the extra miles were SO worth it she thought she should share for future reference.

First of all, you cannot underestimate basic perks such as a clean bathroom, quiet place to sit and basic food/drink. Now add to that shorter lines in a redonculously crowded terminal and you have the nirvana that is luxury travel.

Skip two hours from leaving home and we find Poker Chick eating deviled eggs with caviar, drinking a surprisingly good Bloody Mary, and typing on her computer (which is charging along with her cell phone and blackberry). Did we mention the comfortable chair?

Repeat after Poker Chick: “’Tis good to be a snob. ‘Tis good to be a snob.”

Now you must excuse Poker Chick. She’s up and running to the nearest table faster than you can say “dessert bar.”

Shalom, Salaam, Peace - and Free Wi Fi!!

Jerusalem. What is there to say about it? It's the capital of Israel, a modern city and also the country's largest. Israel's parliament, the Knesset, is here, as is its supreme court and prime minister headquarters. There are highrises, lowrises, shops, restaurants, cafes. Culture abounds - with internationally recognized artists, musicians, actors. World leaders visit all the time. Almost every language you can think of is spoken here. In this respect, it's a modern, international city in a democratic society.

Modern Jerusalem. This is the "new city". Construction everywhere with many foreigners buying second homes here.

Except it's not that simple.

Its history dates back anywhere from 4,000-10,000 BCE, depending on who you ask. Either way, that's freakin' old. It's the birthplace of monotheism and critical for many of the world's religions. The holiest city in Judaism, third-holiest in Islam, and where Jesus just happens to be buried. Jesus, peeps! That's big stuff.

Therein lies the lifelong dichotomy of this city. It wants to be progressive and modern. Really, it does. New York. Paris. Rome. Jerusalem. It kind of works. But on the other hand, it never really will. Imagine, if you will, taking a tour. You walk on a freshly paved sidewalk, surrounded by shops. Zara, H&M, all the latest fashions. "Here, on your left, is the newest sushi bar, also the trendiest nightspot....".

Impossible to describe the smells of all these spices and incense all mixed together. Not to mention adding in men on the corners smoking hookahs.

You turn the corner. Suddenly you're on cobblestone a car could never go on. "Here, on your right, is where Jesus was resurrected. That corner is where David fought Goliath. Oh, and this was where Solomon did his thinking".

Far right, sign in Arabic in East Jerusalem, in the "shuk".

Middle, woman praying at the Western Wall.See what I mean? The modern thing will never fully work.

The other dilemma with Jerusalem is that everyone and their mother has a claim to this place. Come here and you will see the Arab-Israeli conflict with your own eyes. Fundamentalists on all sides. Haredim and Arabs fighting it out for who can have the higher birth rate. Modern life colliding with tradition.....and losing. Clearly. The weirdest feeling was watching Palestinian children run around, thinking one could have a bomb strapped to them in the near future. Because it's out of this poverty, right here, that Hamas rules. Sad, but don't be fooled, it's true. Not the most comfortable place for an American Jew to be walking around. Let's just say it was obvious Poker Chick did not belong and was not wanted walking around there.

It looks old, but if you look carefully you'll see the "Free Wi Fi" on the orange sign in the picture above.

In reality, it's Israel's capital, but the world does not acknowledge this. It's also the capital claimed by the Palestinians. Or, if you ask someone else, it belongs to the world. Huh. Clearly, an issue.

No matter what happens, it'll always be a history of unbelievable historical significance. To turn a corner and suddenly feel like you've stepped back in time hundreds or even thousands of years is indescribable.

Woman selling grape leaves in East Jerusalem.

It's impossible to talk middle east politics without having seen this for yourself. It will change your whole perspective. Go. Whatever you believe, go. There's nothing else like it.

Day 1, hour who knows.....

Well technically it's been only 42 hours or so since taking off from New York, which makes this the longest day ever. What has Poker Chick gotten herself into since take off?

Well since Big Boy is not good at sharing his computer, she'll share her notes and write more when he's asleep. But suffice it so say there's lots to share.

Thursday night- take off
Poker Chick is a woman who likes her stuff. She's always needed the security of carrying a big bag at all times, knowing she has her meds, band aids, makeup, new clothes, whatever, ready at her finger tips. It helps her relax. Being a seasoned traveler she also is used to carrying as much on board as possible. It's just safer.

So now we take a girl always used to a big purse, we take away her carry on baggage, and we replace it all with a backpack. That's it. Her jeans, sneakers, a sweater thrown over her tshirt, and a backpack on her back. For the next two days. She didn't even realize how little she had on her until she watched the suitcase go away in terror. Then it hit her at security. She only needed one bin to go through the metal detector. Phone, shoes, sweater, it all fit in one bin. Security had never been so easy in her life.

It was such an unsettling feeling, knowing she was hedging her bets, not carrying the world so as to be prepared for every possible scenario.

Definitely the right way to start an adventure.

Next post, Amsterdam, part 1. Until then, please to enjoy thoughts scribbled into Poker Chick's notebook. All copied without edits.

• Who is this obnoxious load guy near me?
• I can't believe Cereality closed before I had time to get some. Of course.
• I ordered the veggie meal? Really? Uh, oookay then.
• Seriously, who is this guy! I think he's the boss of these two women speaking next to me. They're speaking Spanish to each other. He's yelling at them in Dutch. Then muttering to himself in German. Who are these people? And how many languages do they speak? And do they not believe in sleep where they come from?
• Well, did my best. Slept a bit and just downed a bottle of water mixed with EmergenC. Maybe it'll wake my ass up!!! Next, to change. Need to make an attempt to look like a human being and not a walking zombie with unwashed hair, morning breath, and a giant pimple that seems to have sprouted in the last two hours. Great. I wanted to look young, but pimply-faced American teenager was not the look I was going for. Better put the nicer shirt on. Now repeat after me, "it is not 3am it is 9am, it is not 3am, it is not 3am...."

Friday

• OK, what's with the bathrooms in Holland? Are they all unisex or something?

To be continued.....with pictures....

(mūd)

mood^{1, n.}

In case you hadn't noticed, our girl's in a bad mood. Which got her to thinking. Why? Let's examine the options:

• Stress. Work has been overwhelming and all-consuming lately. 'Tis true.
• Lack of balance. Today Poker Chick had her first big mom f-ck up, she missed the Purim parade. It was a conscious choice as she had a big meeting at work. The parade was covered by the husband and Big Boy. But she hadn't been faced with that choice before and it sucked. She wished she could have been there to see the mini. The guilt, oh the guilt!
  
• Inadequate sleep. For the past couple of weeks the mini has been getting up several times at night to "make a pee pee". We're talking like every two hours. Poker Chick hasn't been this exhausted since the newborn stage.
• Jet-lag. Well, Poker Chick probably doesn't have jet lag anymore, but she has been on a whole heck of a lot of airplanes in the past week or so. 'Tis draining.
• Malnutrition. Ok so that might be a bit of an exaggeration. But loads of travel and a redonculous work schedule = irregular meals. If you're Poker Chick stress means reduced appetite too. Counterintuitive, we know.
• Bad news. Between sick relatives and a funeral this weekend for a friend's parent, 'tis hard to stay cheery.

Excellent illustration of bad mood flowchart. Thanks, mystery online person!

What puts you peeps in a bad mood? There's gotta be, like, 1,000 valid reasons out there for being pissed off. Don't let Poker Chick be pissy alone!!! Let's all share a good vent as we ponder why exhaustion is making Poker Chick pretend to talk like an Irishwoman.

Bizarre Travel, Part Two

Though there's no way it can live up to the hype after all this time, here is Part two of the travel story. Click here to read Part One.

We know the current state of airline travel in the U.S. is poor. But there's delays and there's bad luck. And then there's traveling with Poker Chick. If you've read her stories in the past, or even just Part one of this series, we think you'll agree she's surpassed bad luck here. We don't know what that's called, but it definitely warrants its own category. If she were in Vegas there'd be odds on this. We're sure of it.

The flight home was a bit stressful. Poker Chick had a family emergency and was deciding whether or not to take a redeye home. But she stuck with her plans as she was flying with an old and close friend. Ironically, her friend (who was going to a wedding), could not sleep and wanted to go standby on an earlier flight. But she passed so she could fly with Poker Chick. Poor thing did not know what she was in for (we love you wegray!)

It started out innocently enough. Left the gate on time. Taxied a bit. Captain got on and told evereyone there would be the usual La Guardia traffic delay but that they'd make up the time. And then...the plane stopped moving. No big deal, maintenance issue. A small one, captain was just going back to the gate to get a new part and he knew exactly what it was. Poker Chick looked around the half-empty plane and had a feeling this was not good.

Not surprisingly, the part was either not produced or just completely falsified. Either way, all got booted from the plane. They tried to get on the next flight standby. No such luck. A while later, the airline found a new plane. That plane finally left the gate and took off. About 2 1/2 hours after scheduled take off time.


Lessons learned for any peeps reading:

1. Don't check luggage (in case you haven't learned that already)
2. Bring snacks. Because even with a 2 1/2 hour delay, a half hour for boarding and 5 hour flight they still won't feed you.
3. Bring extra underwear. You never know when you might unexpectedly take a detour for a couple of days.

Bizarre Travel, Part One

In case this is not obvious, this is part one of a two-part serious. The second part will come at the end of the trip, in case that is not obvious as well.

Poker Chick's on the road again, this time cutting her weekend short to travel. She was sick all weekend which always makes flying more interesting (note to other travelers: Airborne may be a taboo subject these days, but Emergen-C seriously does make you feel better pretty quickly!)

She checks in and proceeds to walk what seems like three miles to her gate. She's tired with the usual security drill. Take off coat, take off shoes, take off sweater around your waist. Take out computer, put two bags on track, take out your "potions". Poker Chick always hates this part because you have about one minute to do all this before people start yelling at you for holding up the line. You know what, peeps? It's impossible to do that fast. People need to chill.

She's putting her shoes back on when some security lady yells at her to take all her stuff away from the belt and get together there. Great, lady. Except she's traveling alone and with no hands free to carry her shoes she needs to put them on before picking everything else up and moving. Do people not understand this? It's important to note Poker Chick did not say this out loud, merely said she was doing her best and would move shortly. She said it quite nicely.

Now here's where it gets interesting. Poker Chick walks over to get together the rest of her stuff and gets pulled aside by "behavioral interrogators". Did you know these existed? Poker Chick did not. Apparently they observe people in security and pull out potential threats for special examination. So if you're carrying a big backpack around your waist and looking like a nervous would-be terrorist, they're suspicious. This "interrogator" was the same guy who was watching people in line before security, making jokes and witty comments which people (including yours truly) were bantering back to (is that english)?

It didn't help that Poker Chick thought they were joking at first. Seriously, she's never heard of these, but it is somewhat comforting to know our security is more comprehensive than we think. At some point she realized this was no joke and looked at the man and said "wow, you're actually serious?!" Unbelievable. In case you think Poker Chick exaggerates, you can read about "Behavior Detection Officers" here. Did anyone else know about these people?

We all know Poker Chick has a tendency to put her foot in her mouth. But this time, honestly, peeps, she has no idea what wrong answer landed her there.

Now back at the plane, we'll save you the long story and give you the short one: two hours after taxi-ing away from the gate the plane was back at the gate. Emergency vehicles surrounded the plane to help an alleged sick flight attendant and get a new one on board. At the same time, they boarded extra passengers. Hmmm......

Guns and cockroaches...

You know what that means....Poker Chick is on the road again. Here's the latest adventures.

Tuesday
Poker Chick arrives at the airport at 4pm for a 5pm flight. She checks in and is told with a smile she's "confirmed for the 8:30pm". Excuse me? Some investigation turned up the 5pm had been cancelled. Uh, thanks for the heads'-up US Airways. Not. But hey, there's a 6pm on another airline with room. So they could move her right? Wrong. They admitted they could. Then they said they wouldn't. Their excuse? She had no connections and therefore they were getting her there within a fair amount of time. She's not sure what made her day more, the $10 coupon they gave her for dinner at the food court or the cockroach sitting on the chair next to her at LaGuardia.

Wednesday
Out on business in a small city. With a surprising free hour on her hands, she walks to the mall to buy a guilt gift for the mini. She passes a convention center on the way. There seems to be quite a show going on. People from all over the country. Busloads of people, kids too. What was it? An exciting gun show!!! Yes, peeps, that's right. There's nothing like a good gun show to put you in the mood for being a good, calm and responsible human being. OK, well technically it was an archery hunting show. But those "lethal and silent" products they were advertising weren't exactly the bows and arrows from summer camp.

Poker Chick could hardly contain her excitement. This people-watching opportunity was too good to pass up. She got herself a pass (uh government, it was too easy!) and walked in with her mouth wide open when she saw the first big table near the entrance: THE BAR.

Yep. Drinking makes for better hunting. Didn't you know?

Poker Chick was exceptionally glad to see that people are exercising their "right to bear arms" while taking every possible precaution against civilian casualties. Freedom for products like the "buck bomb" and others that were "lethal but silent" is so important. It was also nice to see the children there, knowing that they, too, could learn how to hunt responsibly while successfully holding on to their beer bottles. And names like "license to steal" and "doinker" help make learning fun. And these lessons are awfully important. After all, these children are our future.

Friday
Wrapping up another fun-filled trip, yours truly got an urgent call interrupting her meeting. Yep, you guessed it, her flight home had been cancelled.

Don't you just wish you could hit the road with Poker Chick?

Personal Space Invaders

Travel insanity continues. If you're new to the blog, click on the links to read about previous adventures of planes, trains and buses.
The most recent insanity: a 1.5 plane ride that was delayed 2.5 hours, followed by a 1 hour wait in line for a taxi home to go just a few miles. Someone has got to do something about LaGuardia delays!

Travel issues aside, Poker Chick needs your advice! She seems to be a magnet for people with no concept of personal space and she can't stand it anymore. She's asking readers to help her with an appropriate yet clear comment to get these people to stop. The default "get out of my ass!" she's dying to scream is probably not her best bet in reality.

Anyone out there with a little more tact?

*Can't read the comic? Click here for a clearer read.

Hit the Road, Chick (Updated Aug. 26)

Poker Chick is exhausted. Four flights in five days for work. The state of air travel these days is so beyond abhorrent, it's not even funny. In general, she's tired of walking through airport security barefoot. She's tired of being talked to by strange people next to her and offered half-eaten sandwiches and half-drunk bloody mary's. Note to travelers: Poker Chick isn't really sleeping. She just doesn't really care to hear more about cousin Flo's wedding or the massive bachelor party you're planning at age 50. Yeah, you're cool. Now leave Poker Chick alone.
NYC - Chicago
8am Monday. At the airport by 6:15 am, only to find out that both the 7am and the 8am flights have been cancelled. The airport is in a state of chaos. Poker Chick has two options: leave at 4pm (waaay too late), or get on the hour-long line to try and get another ticket, or standy on another flight. Poker Chick calls her travel agent three separate times while online and Blackberries 3 different colleagues. Finally, she finds out a better option than five standby flights on United she stands no chance of getting on (100+people waiting): a couple of American flights. She puts a seat on hold and finally makes it to the United counter. They need to "endorse" the ticket to another airline so she doesn't have to pay an additional full fare (yikes!!). Success!! Oh wait, it's not a ticket, just a voucher. She needs to wait on the American line (2+ hours) for an American ticket.

9:30am. Poker chick has been standing on some sort of line for 3 hours. She's hungry, tired, dizzy, and needs to pee. The situation sucks!! Finally she makes it to the American counter. Her travel agent just reserved a seat for ther on the 10:15. No, they say. She's only on standby.

10:00am. Poker Chick checks her voicemail at work. Message at 8:01am from an automated voice ("This is United with an important message. Your flight itinerary has changed due to a [cancellation] ....)

WTF, people?

Chicago - Philadelphia
The flight is delayed for 2 hours. Fortunately, Poker Chick gets a heads'-up this time. The flight actually does take off 2 hours late. 30 minutes past landing time, everyone aboard is wondering why we've been circling Philadelphia for the past 45 minutes at the same altitude.....

Philadelphia - Phoenix
United flight with no information otherwise. Check in at the United counter at 6:45 am, only to get the message that it's a US Air codeshare, and the US Air terminal is outside and a little walk away. Perhaps that information might have been helpful a bit sooner. Also, a special shoutout to the three burly men that spent 10 minutes watching Poker Chick struggle with an overhead bin mid-flight. Not only was her laptop not in that bin after all, but it was one of their suitcases that didn't really fit and gave her such a hard time closing it again. A little help here, a$$holes?!

On a pleasant note, the flight arrived only 6 minutes late. Another pleasant note, this facility is currently ordering dinner for us from the Cheesecake Factory. Mmm.....

Phoenix - New Jersey
Well here's the nail-biting finale. Poker Chick's flight was scheduled to leave for Newark at 4pm Phoenix time. However a glance at the "arrival" screen showed that the plane due to land at her gate at 3:15 was delayed until 5:30. Therefore her flight must be delayed at least 2 hours, even though they weren't saying so. Poker Chick proved to be right when she interrogated a gate agent who was forced to admit the truth. How did this help? Well, it allowed Poker Chick to leave her teeny tiny airport terminal and get a halfway decent dinner in the meantime. (Chili's. Decent burger. But positively gourmet compared to the two-day old sandwiches she left behind). Though she had to go back to security to make her flight, there was no line at that time. How did she know this would happen? A little chit-chat with the security guy on her way out taught her that there were no late night flights, so everyone would have already gone through security by 5pm. (They were right, by the way. She's never gotten through those x-ray things so fast). Finally at the gate, she noticed it was 5:20 and the plane still hadn't arrived. So she opened her computer and updated this here blog (another tip from security guy: wireless signal best at gate 6). She looked around her and saw hundreds of frustrated passengers. They had been waiting for hours only to keep getting more delayed. Finally, the plane arrived and everyone boarded at 6pm. Poker Chick boarded the plane feeling like a champ. Everyone else was hungry and cranky, but not her! Her brilliant travel skills got her a hot meal, inside information, priority baggage handling, and a window seat with no one next to her. She enjoyed a comfortable flight filled with arm space, naps, and toblerone. But then she got brought down to earth. After landing she watched passenger after passenger headed home with relief. It was past 2am. Everyone was exhausted. And this is when Poker Chick learned that her car wasn't showing up.

So, the moral of the story? You could be a superhero for all they care. At the end of the day, the airlines always get the last laugh. There's no winning at this game, people. Don't even try.

Poker Chick is Special

If you've ever received an unexpected windfall, you'll know how Poker Chick feels today. It started with a flight to Vegas. Many decisions needed to be made before booking. Thursday or Friday? Redeye return or not? 4 or 5 nights? Which airline?

After a week of waffling, way too much overthinking, and annoying every friend I have with a request for advice, I decided to book my flight. Friday am departure. Mon. night redeye return; going straight to work. Just one question left....Delta or Jet Blue?

Jet Blue was about $40 more for virtually the same times, but they're more comfortable, so I decided to go with them. Now, this classless airline eliminates any possibility for business class upgrades, but I'm smart enough to know that battle is lost before it can start. However, just to make sure, I called Delta. Yep, just as I thought. I'd have to buy a totally refundable ticket in order to qualify for an upgrade, or even use my miles. $500 more. So not worth it.

That settled it. A decision had been made!

I go online the next day, fully intending to book my ticket. Except now the Delta flight is $100 cheaper. Yikes! What do I do? More waffling, of course. Finally, I clicked "confirm booking" on Expedia, sealing my fate with Delta. I knew it was time to relax and breathe. But I'm still not sure I made the right decision, even though it was too late. I went to the Delta website and put in my frequent flyer number, curious to see if I could have gotten some sort of better deal. The same flights popped up, for the same price I paid on Expedia. Except there was this "request upgrade" button. WTF was this?

Anyone who's flown a redeye from the West Coast knows just how valuable business class can be. So I wasn't ready to let this rest. I called Delta again, only this time I called Skymiles and gave them my frequent flyer #. Guess what???? Poker Chick is a Silver Medallion member. What does this mean? Special line for check in, best selection of coach seats, priority boarding and.......

UNLIMITED COMPLIMENTARY UPGRADES!!!!!!!!!!!!*

Does anyone remember that time Poker Chick junior and I got randomly bumped up? Turns out it wasn't pity. It was superiority. Click here to see just how special I am.

I'm sticking with Delta, baby!



*Subject to availability