I'm in Alaska for another few hours. My trip this week was pretty uneventful. I almost had several, oh, hundred rental car accidents, but managed to keep it together for a week.
Right now, I'm sitting in the Alaska Airlines Board Room. I have three more hours until my flight starts boarding, and Tripit Pro offered me $25 to buy a day pass here, so I figured OH HELL YES!. As nice as the Ted Stevens Memorial Boondoggle is, and it's very nice, sitting anywhere near gate B-5 is like volunteering to be an Ebola doctor. Something like half the human race is sitting in there around now, waiting to get the fuck out of this state, and the noise of that influenza-and-worse-ridden rabble combined with the bopping 50's pop tunes playing on the intercom and the constant blather of gate announcements makes any other place on earth more desirable. The Board Room is such a place, and it has beer!
What strikes me immediately with the Board Room is the completely undeserved air of privilege that suffuses the place. At least two or three past-middle-aged douchebags have come at the front desk ladies berating them for committing the unforgivable sin of not letting them in for a) them not having paid to be here and/or b) them not having enough points or whatever to be here. It's pretty simple, folks. I figured it out. You pay $45 (or $20 with a $25 discount in my case) and you can come in. Being a white guy with gray hair and a blazer is not enough. Nice try.
For some reason, they are playing the local NBC feed on the TV. I endured "Undateable" and "Superstore", and now I am hate-ignoring "Dateline". You'd think for $45 you'd get at least basic cable. There are a bunch of chairs pointing at the TV, as though "Making A Murderer" or at least "Jessica Jones" is running and we should all be paying attention. Instead, it's Lester Goddamned Holt.
And, it's Alaska Fucking Airlines! It's not like it's Emirates or Singapore Air. You're not a globe-trotting mystery man on a rakish adventure. You're going to Yakima. Get a grip.
I'll be back here in May for three weeks. It's turnaround time, and I've been told I only need to work five days a week, but we'll see. Turnarounds and I don't mix well. If I do work three straight weeks, I'll get some OT or comp time at least, not that it's worth it.
Well, about two hours left! Beer will help that go away.
Right now, I'm sitting in the Alaska Airlines Board Room. I have three more hours until my flight starts boarding, and Tripit Pro offered me $25 to buy a day pass here, so I figured OH HELL YES!. As nice as the Ted Stevens Memorial Boondoggle is, and it's very nice, sitting anywhere near gate B-5 is like volunteering to be an Ebola doctor. Something like half the human race is sitting in there around now, waiting to get the fuck out of this state, and the noise of that influenza-and-worse-ridden rabble combined with the bopping 50's pop tunes playing on the intercom and the constant blather of gate announcements makes any other place on earth more desirable. The Board Room is such a place, and it has beer!
What strikes me immediately with the Board Room is the completely undeserved air of privilege that suffuses the place. At least two or three past-middle-aged douchebags have come at the front desk ladies berating them for committing the unforgivable sin of not letting them in for a) them not having paid to be here and/or b) them not having enough points or whatever to be here. It's pretty simple, folks. I figured it out. You pay $45 (or $20 with a $25 discount in my case) and you can come in. Being a white guy with gray hair and a blazer is not enough. Nice try.
For some reason, they are playing the local NBC feed on the TV. I endured "Undateable" and "Superstore", and now I am hate-ignoring "Dateline". You'd think for $45 you'd get at least basic cable. There are a bunch of chairs pointing at the TV, as though "Making A Murderer" or at least "Jessica Jones" is running and we should all be paying attention. Instead, it's Lester Goddamned Holt.
And, it's Alaska Fucking Airlines! It's not like it's Emirates or Singapore Air. You're not a globe-trotting mystery man on a rakish adventure. You're going to Yakima. Get a grip.
I'll be back here in May for three weeks. It's turnaround time, and I've been told I only need to work five days a week, but we'll see. Turnarounds and I don't mix well. If I do work three straight weeks, I'll get some OT or comp time at least, not that it's worth it.
Well, about two hours left! Beer will help that go away.