savoir faire
I'm back from Atlanta, where I had to go for two more days of user testing. The only localized things I could glimpse were the characteristic red Georgia dirt and the pine trees that throw off needles everywhere, that gather in the middle of the road like piles of hay. It was sad not to be able to do or see anything. My father being from Georgia, I travelled there regularly as a child and it brought up nostalgia as I sat in the notorious Atlanta traffic, seeing the pine trees wave by.
When it was all over, almost all of us were travelling to different locales, except the head honcho account woman CC and me, who were taking the same flight back to Newark (yuk, no skyline of Manhattan here). We hadn't really had much to do with one another so I was a little shy about travelling with her but she was very natural and engaging. I guess that's part of the account job, making nice with all sorts. Anyway, this lady knows how to travel.
The flight to Newark was sold out but fortunately we both had what we wanted: she an aisle seat and me a window one. The airport in Atlanta is a real pain - it's miles long, needs a train to get around. As we were on our way to the security walk-through, which had a line about a mile long itself, everyone seeming to take off early for the Thanksgiving holiday week, CC pulled me over to the side. The "elite" flyer entrance. She's not an elite flyer on Continental, as neither am I, and I absolutely HATE breaking rules cause I HATE being embarrassed when I get caught and therefore am about the best citizen ever. Nevertheless, she talks her way through with her "friend" (me!) and we're in like Flynn. Then she steers straight for the Gold member lounge. I think she's kidding when she says, so, let's stop by the Club for a drink, but no. She throws open the intimidating swinging doors to the "Club," walks up to the counter and says, I'm wondering what you can do for me today. After that, CC and the man sitting at the desk seemed to be speaking in code. He asked me whether I had any requests about my ticket and I, totally unable to pull anything off in the way of nonchalance, said, "Err, I think I'm just fine."
Apparently first class was full and all had already arrived but one and there were people ahead of CC, so she was not able to weasel into the area of plane privilege. She did though ask whether we could have a drink, and the friendly, flattered and outflirted man waved to the side and said Sure. Just make sure you board 15 minutes before the flight leaves. This was for our benefit only, not to lay some kind of ground rules (no pun intended). So I turn around, ready to exit and go to whatever Applebee-type place there was for CC's drink. Of course, they had meant in the Club. So we walk through the small crowd of elegant chairs and WiFi-connected execs into the bar, where CC sprung into action. She told me she'd show me how to get properly prepared for air travel. After buying me a Coke and herself two glasses of red wine, she made a beeline for the free coffee counter and picked up two paper cups. She took one to the other side where there were free wrapped cheeses and separate gourmet crackers, took a handful and crammed them into the cup to keep them from breaking, and stashed the cup in her bag. The other cup she used to pour one of the glasses of wine into as she drank the other one. "This way you can drink at the gate when you're waiting," she taught me.
All that taken care of, we left to the gate, where we heard that the crew itself was stuck in traffic and expected in 20 minutes, whereupon CC said, let's go back to the Club. I begged off, certain I couldn't take the pressure of putting on an air of entitledness again. She told me to call her when I saw they were ready to start boarding. She gave me her cell phone number, which thrilled me. I've travelled my whole life and been in many a sophisticated situation but this woman was just made to have the world at her feet. When the crew arrived, I dutifully called CC, who was on the phone so I just left a message. I was the first to board as part of the regular boarding, but when I got on the plane, there was CC already sitting with a glass of wine in the front row of coach, her toes in first class. I made the long journey to the very last row where she waved to me as she went to the bathroom once. How humiliating! How so not worldly and savvy and superior! Alas.
When I finally got out of the damn plane and walked into Newark airport, there was CC, waiting for me. I wanted to say goodbye, she said, and we chatted until we got to the Continental Gold member lounge, where she excused herself. So she may be an alcoholic, but what grace. And I have her mobile number on my phone. Oh yeah.
gertrude
When it was all over, almost all of us were travelling to different locales, except the head honcho account woman CC and me, who were taking the same flight back to Newark (yuk, no skyline of Manhattan here). We hadn't really had much to do with one another so I was a little shy about travelling with her but she was very natural and engaging. I guess that's part of the account job, making nice with all sorts. Anyway, this lady knows how to travel.
The flight to Newark was sold out but fortunately we both had what we wanted: she an aisle seat and me a window one. The airport in Atlanta is a real pain - it's miles long, needs a train to get around. As we were on our way to the security walk-through, which had a line about a mile long itself, everyone seeming to take off early for the Thanksgiving holiday week, CC pulled me over to the side. The "elite" flyer entrance. She's not an elite flyer on Continental, as neither am I, and I absolutely HATE breaking rules cause I HATE being embarrassed when I get caught and therefore am about the best citizen ever. Nevertheless, she talks her way through with her "friend" (me!) and we're in like Flynn. Then she steers straight for the Gold member lounge. I think she's kidding when she says, so, let's stop by the Club for a drink, but no. She throws open the intimidating swinging doors to the "Club," walks up to the counter and says, I'm wondering what you can do for me today. After that, CC and the man sitting at the desk seemed to be speaking in code. He asked me whether I had any requests about my ticket and I, totally unable to pull anything off in the way of nonchalance, said, "Err, I think I'm just fine."
Apparently first class was full and all had already arrived but one and there were people ahead of CC, so she was not able to weasel into the area of plane privilege. She did though ask whether we could have a drink, and the friendly, flattered and outflirted man waved to the side and said Sure. Just make sure you board 15 minutes before the flight leaves. This was for our benefit only, not to lay some kind of ground rules (no pun intended). So I turn around, ready to exit and go to whatever Applebee-type place there was for CC's drink. Of course, they had meant in the Club. So we walk through the small crowd of elegant chairs and WiFi-connected execs into the bar, where CC sprung into action. She told me she'd show me how to get properly prepared for air travel. After buying me a Coke and herself two glasses of red wine, she made a beeline for the free coffee counter and picked up two paper cups. She took one to the other side where there were free wrapped cheeses and separate gourmet crackers, took a handful and crammed them into the cup to keep them from breaking, and stashed the cup in her bag. The other cup she used to pour one of the glasses of wine into as she drank the other one. "This way you can drink at the gate when you're waiting," she taught me.
All that taken care of, we left to the gate, where we heard that the crew itself was stuck in traffic and expected in 20 minutes, whereupon CC said, let's go back to the Club. I begged off, certain I couldn't take the pressure of putting on an air of entitledness again. She told me to call her when I saw they were ready to start boarding. She gave me her cell phone number, which thrilled me. I've travelled my whole life and been in many a sophisticated situation but this woman was just made to have the world at her feet. When the crew arrived, I dutifully called CC, who was on the phone so I just left a message. I was the first to board as part of the regular boarding, but when I got on the plane, there was CC already sitting with a glass of wine in the front row of coach, her toes in first class. I made the long journey to the very last row where she waved to me as she went to the bathroom once. How humiliating! How so not worldly and savvy and superior! Alas.
When I finally got out of the damn plane and walked into Newark airport, there was CC, waiting for me. I wanted to say goodbye, she said, and we chatted until we got to the Continental Gold member lounge, where she excused herself. So she may be an alcoholic, but what grace. And I have her mobile number on my phone. Oh yeah.
gertrude
posted by Gertrude at 10:39 PM
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