The best part about being a Million Mile member of American Airline's frequent flyer club is the ability to be included in their Admiral's Clubs across the country. If you're like me and you hate sitting amongst the great unwashed in airline terminals, the Admiral's Club is a safe haven, where you don't have to worry about somebody using two chairs to rest their dirty bare feet.
Besides the complimentary soft drinks and snacks, you can relax with television or a newspaper. And if you're trying to stay abreast of your business developments, the corporate centers are ideal. There are computers, printers, and machines all tucked in some very quiet cubicles.
There is an "unofficial" official rule in this area. You keep it quiet. Hushed tones are the norm. This is where folks need to concentrate before grabbing that 3:15PM connecting flight to Los Angeles.
Which is what I was doing in Dallas last week on my way home from Boston. Checking e-mail. And, then, ultimately writing this blog entry which was immediately inspired by the moment.
All the "quiet zone" cubicles were full. Everybody doing their thing. Except for one bitch who is not paying attention to life around her.
"HI. I'M IN DALLAS AND I'M ON MY CELL PHONE."
Over and over and over, this faceless magpie opened up her business life for about a dozen other respectable and noiseless people to hear.
"YEAH, I'M IN THE ADMIRAL'S CLUB WAITING FOR MY FLIGHT."
As if you had showed up here for any other reason. This is an airport. You board planes here to go to a myriad of places that dot the United States. I think we can all figure this out, honey, but thanks for the bio.
"CAN YOU FAX IT TO ME HERE?"
Sure. What's the number? And, oh, by the way, is it actually possible for me to fax an explosive device? To you?
"I HAVE DINNER PLANS TOMORROW. HOW ABOUT FRIDAY?"
Let me think. Are you going to be there? If so, er, no, I can't.
"CALL MY SECRETARY AND SHE'LL HANDLE IT FOR YOU."
Okay, who uses the word "secretary" anymore? And now I'm imagining this sow's picture on her secretary's, er, I mean administrative assistant's dart board.
On and on and on and on this went for twenty minutes. With the same refrain kicking off every phone conversation.
"HI. I'M IN DALLAS AND I'M ON MY CELL PHONE."
I could sense the tension oozing out the top of every cubicle. Almost silent "ughs" every time this corporate Ethel Merman started to yap anew.
Somebody had to do something. Thinking of President John F. Kennedy who was killed in the same very state, I asked not what my Admiral's Club can do for me but what I could do for my Admiral's Club. If she did this one more time...
She didn't disappoint.
"HI. I'M IN DALLAS AND I'M ON MY CELL PHONE."
With the comedic timing of George Burns and Gracie Allen's best routine, I didn't miss a beat. My voice was loud and clear.
"APPARENTLY."
Snickering could be heard in the all the cubicles around me. I had mysteriously bonded with eleven other strangers all unified in our hatred of this moron.
She didn't make another phone call for the next half-hour.
Dinner last night: Roast beef sandwich from Clementine's.
1 comment:
I can top that.
I just crossed the country to visit my family back in NYC. One problem on my first flight with jetBlue: I had the Inevitable Crying Baby in the row behind me. Her dumb parents didn't mind the frequent screeching. After all, Mom and Dad listen to it every day. They made no attempt to soothe their toddler. Neither did the various flight attendants, one of whom had a major paunch and spent much of the flight reading a book. Thanks. Don't do your job seems to be the credo of many these days.
I switched seats but babies are loud. Even some wonderful tunes from XM couldn't drown out Mama's Little Angel. This lasted four hours.
I didn't complain to the parents because I knew they wouldn't get it. And then I'm the bad guy who hates kids. Guess what? I don't have to love your kid. That's your job.
On the return flight, guess what? A new Inevitable Crying Baby. But there was a twist. This Mom and Dad were both wearing Bose noise-cancelling headphones. They didn't have to hear Junior's wailing. But we did. Thanks.
This Mom did make an effort to calm baby. She breastfed.
Thanks.
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