Things I learned in Denver
This is my first time in Denver, except for a layover in the airport years ago, en route to New Mexico, and at that time all I learned was that (1) Denver is really cold in December, and you'll likely have to wait around while they de-ice your plane if you're flying out at night and (2) I hate, hate, hate flying in those little 12-person puddle-jumper planes, especially when I'm sitting on one for an hour, in the dark, while it gets de-iced.
This time, I've mostly just been inside the hotel, but nevertheless, a few things I've discovered on this trip:
-- It sucks not being Elite. I know, I know, carbon footprint, blah blah blah; for a lot of reasons, it's good that I don't fly as much as I used to for work (I have not checked out Amtrak's contribution to global warming, though), but it means I lose my preferred status, which means longer security lines, and a seat closer to the rear of the plane. Which mostly doesn't bother me, especially if there's a rear exit door, but yesterday, I realized a huge disadvantage of being in the back: I could not get to the bathroom.
The plane I was on had only two restrooms in coach, both at the back of the plane. I was four rows from the back, so everyone was queuing up next to my seat, sometimes leaning on my armrest or headrest. Which was annoying, but there was no one in the middle seat, so not awful. But then I realized that every time there was a line of more than four people -- and that was probably the case for about 50% of the flight time when the seatbelt sign was off -- I could not get myself in that line. Every time I seemed to have an opportunity, someone else came staggering down the aisle, and I couldn't squeeze my way through.
-- Climate change is real. I didn't actually check the weather before coming out here; I listed to a colleague who told me it was supposed to be 70 and sunny. And then, the guy at the rental car place asked if I was ready for the snow. I sort of laughed in a "yeah, you're hilarious. Ha, ha" kind of way, because it was, in fact, in the high 70s when I landed. And then, as the day wore on, it turned out that there really was rain and snow.
-- Enterprise Rental Car, at least at the Denver airport location, is not my type. I'm sure that there's some kind of research that suggests that their (figurative, thank goodness) song and dance routine is appealing to a broad swath of customers, but it was just not my cup of tea. Really, after a long, turbulent flight, and a schlep through the airport to the rental car shuttle site, and the five-mile ride on the shuttle, I don't need to shake hands with an overly bubbly agent, and I don't need to be brought "shopping." I know some people care deeply about the type of rental car they drive, and I'm sure that plenty of people enjoy the opportunity to pick out the specific car they'll drive, within the category they've signed up for. But when I tell you, more than once, that I'm only driving to and from the hotel, and that I don't care what kind of car I get, please quit it with the charade of browsing all the possible rides. Especially when, just to get it over with, I say, "Yes, great, I want that Mazda," you realize suddenly that the Mazda is in fact not available, and then, as we approach my second-choice car, it's clear that someone else is making a beeline for it and are going to claim it first. Really, I just want to get out of the blazing sun, into my car, and over to my hotel. Why make it so complicated?
-- I think I'm going to get sucked in to seeing Sex and the City. I think it will not be a great movie, but I'm starting to feel like there's some inevitability there. I've been surprised how many women have confided in me that they've hatched plans to cut out of work early and see an afternoon show, either on their own or with girlfriends from work.
-- Two out of three room service customers were watching Dancing With the Stars last night, according to the guy who delivered my undercooked-but-still-delicious burger (I felt a kinship with Minnams, who also had a raw-burger problem with room service recently -- what's up with that?) and perfect fries. I skipped the yummy-looking dessert selection because I'd eaten chocolate-covered strawberries at my work reception earlier in the evening. But I was starving when I got back to my room, because I had to make remarks at the reception, and the even organizer was adamant, for some reason, that I not eat or drink before I spoke. I did not want to cross this woman -- I saw her checklists for this event, and she was not messing around -- so I obeyed, but I'd not eaten since the cornflakes on the plane, and I was famished. So probably wise of her to forbid a glass of wine before my remarks, but I'm still not sure why a couple of forkfuls of tortellini or beef wellington would have been a problem.
-- "Business casual" is the new "no gifts, please." Almost everyone at this meeting was in a suit yesterday, despite the consistent message about it being business casual. I wore a suit yesterday, too, because I had to do remarks, so at least I fit in for one day. But today, I'm definitely rocking the business casual, even more than I'd planned; because of the SNOW, I had to scrap my cute summery top for a sweater.
-- I'd rather be home. Yeah, yeah, I know. This is a given, and I say this pretty much every time I travel, enough already. But I guess it's a good thing, that I consistently feel this pang when I'm away from home, that it crops up every time I'm away. Tonight, fortunately, it's back home to my guys, one of whom is stuck in his Elizabethan collar with an eye injury. Which has been stressful for all three of us, so I'm especially glad to get back home, and trying not to think too much about the fact that tomorrow I take off again.
This time, I've mostly just been inside the hotel, but nevertheless, a few things I've discovered on this trip:
-- It sucks not being Elite. I know, I know, carbon footprint, blah blah blah; for a lot of reasons, it's good that I don't fly as much as I used to for work (I have not checked out Amtrak's contribution to global warming, though), but it means I lose my preferred status, which means longer security lines, and a seat closer to the rear of the plane. Which mostly doesn't bother me, especially if there's a rear exit door, but yesterday, I realized a huge disadvantage of being in the back: I could not get to the bathroom.
The plane I was on had only two restrooms in coach, both at the back of the plane. I was four rows from the back, so everyone was queuing up next to my seat, sometimes leaning on my armrest or headrest. Which was annoying, but there was no one in the middle seat, so not awful. But then I realized that every time there was a line of more than four people -- and that was probably the case for about 50% of the flight time when the seatbelt sign was off -- I could not get myself in that line. Every time I seemed to have an opportunity, someone else came staggering down the aisle, and I couldn't squeeze my way through.
-- Climate change is real. I didn't actually check the weather before coming out here; I listed to a colleague who told me it was supposed to be 70 and sunny. And then, the guy at the rental car place asked if I was ready for the snow. I sort of laughed in a "yeah, you're hilarious. Ha, ha" kind of way, because it was, in fact, in the high 70s when I landed. And then, as the day wore on, it turned out that there really was rain and snow.
-- Enterprise Rental Car, at least at the Denver airport location, is not my type. I'm sure that there's some kind of research that suggests that their (figurative, thank goodness) song and dance routine is appealing to a broad swath of customers, but it was just not my cup of tea. Really, after a long, turbulent flight, and a schlep through the airport to the rental car shuttle site, and the five-mile ride on the shuttle, I don't need to shake hands with an overly bubbly agent, and I don't need to be brought "shopping." I know some people care deeply about the type of rental car they drive, and I'm sure that plenty of people enjoy the opportunity to pick out the specific car they'll drive, within the category they've signed up for. But when I tell you, more than once, that I'm only driving to and from the hotel, and that I don't care what kind of car I get, please quit it with the charade of browsing all the possible rides. Especially when, just to get it over with, I say, "Yes, great, I want that Mazda," you realize suddenly that the Mazda is in fact not available, and then, as we approach my second-choice car, it's clear that someone else is making a beeline for it and are going to claim it first. Really, I just want to get out of the blazing sun, into my car, and over to my hotel. Why make it so complicated?
-- I think I'm going to get sucked in to seeing Sex and the City. I think it will not be a great movie, but I'm starting to feel like there's some inevitability there. I've been surprised how many women have confided in me that they've hatched plans to cut out of work early and see an afternoon show, either on their own or with girlfriends from work.
-- Two out of three room service customers were watching Dancing With the Stars last night, according to the guy who delivered my undercooked-but-still-delicious burger (I felt a kinship with Minnams, who also had a raw-burger problem with room service recently -- what's up with that?) and perfect fries. I skipped the yummy-looking dessert selection because I'd eaten chocolate-covered strawberries at my work reception earlier in the evening. But I was starving when I got back to my room, because I had to make remarks at the reception, and the even organizer was adamant, for some reason, that I not eat or drink before I spoke. I did not want to cross this woman -- I saw her checklists for this event, and she was not messing around -- so I obeyed, but I'd not eaten since the cornflakes on the plane, and I was famished. So probably wise of her to forbid a glass of wine before my remarks, but I'm still not sure why a couple of forkfuls of tortellini or beef wellington would have been a problem.
-- "Business casual" is the new "no gifts, please." Almost everyone at this meeting was in a suit yesterday, despite the consistent message about it being business casual. I wore a suit yesterday, too, because I had to do remarks, so at least I fit in for one day. But today, I'm definitely rocking the business casual, even more than I'd planned; because of the SNOW, I had to scrap my cute summery top for a sweater.
-- I'd rather be home. Yeah, yeah, I know. This is a given, and I say this pretty much every time I travel, enough already. But I guess it's a good thing, that I consistently feel this pang when I'm away from home, that it crops up every time I'm away. Tonight, fortunately, it's back home to my guys, one of whom is stuck in his Elizabethan collar with an eye injury. Which has been stressful for all three of us, so I'm especially glad to get back home, and trying not to think too much about the fact that tomorrow I take off again.
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