Travelholics Anonymous

The first step is to admit you have a problem.
With other people.
Easy Peasy.

The 2:35 flight didn't get off the Dulles tarmac until 3:30, after "waiting for luggage to be loaded." I thought the rule was to get there 45 minutes prior to boarding so bags can get stored. I did MY part. Let's GO. I'm sitting next to a woman with fat forearms reading a book in GIANT PRINT written by the sister of Scott Peterson to talk about how horrible it was to be related to a murderer and oh darn I get to write a book about it.

The plane landed in Denver a little after 5 pm local, so I had to rush in order to get to my 5:35 Colorado Springs departure. Only at the end of that gateway was a supreme lack of airplane upon which to board (even though all the signs said "on time"). Plane showed up around five to six, and we left in the small plane about ten after (sitting next to a larger, huffier/puffier gentleman this time). The short, fifteen-minute flight was a breather, and it was neat to fly directly over the east side of town, my old stomping grounds. Yep, there's that Fazolli's on Austin Bluffs.

Unfortunately, only one of my bags accompanied me on this particular plane. I still had my corresponding tags, so they were able to track down my big suitcase with my uniforms and tooth floss somewhere in the ether. "It'll be here in thirty minutes because our planes are never late and we're perfect would you like to wait of have us deliver it somewhere?"
Delivery.

Last step? Rental car.
"We have you in a small-ass Skia or Jarvis or Tinkie Winkie (whatever the hell she said); would you like to upgrade to something bigger, still at the government rate?"
"Sure, if it's the same price as my reservation."
tappatappatappa
"Is it the same price?"
"It's all the same government range."
I showed her my orders. "This is what I'm authorized."
"Oh, you're authorized this."
It was $1100.
"Really? That's how much the smaller one would have been?"
"With the governmet rate and all the taxes and fees..." nodnodnod
I rolled my one case out to I-21. Big-ass Kia Sedona SUV. No way. Looked at my contract again. "Upgrade? Y"
How about N
I rolled back into the airport desk.
"I may not have been clear or don't understand what you're saying, but I'm not comfortable with this -- just give me my original reservation."
tappatappatapa.
$593.
"See, this is what I meant by 'THE SAME PRICE' and this is really not."
"Well, it's all a range (both hands down on table, palms in, to display said range) and you'd still get reimbursed."
I did not say: "a) no I wouldn't and b) go to hell you frickin slimy saleswoman thieffette."
I did say: "I would rather be a better steward of taxpayer dollars," and rolled out to J-7.

There was no car in J-7.
I looked up and down and behind some cars, trying to find the gray Hyundai Accent, but only found it after the slimy saleswoman thieffette was halfway to the parking lot after my reserved, tired, just-kill-me phone call. Up there in J-2.

The Embassy Suites are lovely, opulent almost, but my room was stifling, and rather than a grand, car bumper-sized aerodrome of an A/C unit that goes RORRORRRORORORRORORORR to blow the curtains around and lull me to sleep, there was a central system with four inch-square vents that went

whoooosh..

and didn't cool the room down after ninety minutes. I asked the front desk for a fan, but they instead moved me to another room. Which was also blazing. They suggested I open a window, and I said I could just sleep on the porch. To her credit, she said she would see about getting a fan for me since I'm staying so long...

It's one-thirty in the morning east coast time. Weird how I stay up late when I'm TDY.
Easier to sleep when there's a beauty in the bed.

whooosh...