Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts
Showing posts with label travel. Show all posts

Long beach, CA isn't a beach

Category: , , By Felicity
After curling up in the most uncomfortable airline seats ever known to mankind for a total of 7 hours and having a less-than-scenic tour of LA and Long Beach and every little town in between, I have made it in one piece to California, and my hotel. I'm here for a conference with a coworker, and I'll be in Cali all week until I leave on Sunday.

Despite the beautiful weather, the swaying palm trees, the sweet hotel, and the amazing food, I've been pretty blah. For one thing, my travel/ visiting plans for after the conference has been in turmoil. Adding to that, my work computer died a horrific, blue-screened death on the airplane, which means I'll be lugging an extra 10 lbs of useless slab of wires when I check out of my hotel. I had plans to work on some random projects/make these pretty poster things for Unity Day on my laptop, and all that has been dashed. What am I going to do at night instead?! Can't go out at night for fear of all the violent things your mother warned you about in a city after dark. TV is an option, but after not watching one for so long, the one in my room gives me headaches. Plus there is nothing on, and the news coverage in Cali is so dramatic and falsely progressive, you'd think you were watching a left-wing tabloid but with video and animated narration. Think "Sarah-Palin-Grows-Fangs-and-Eats-Fetus" kind of news.

Speaking of fangs, what makes me pretty antsy is the fact that Tom got me hooked on TrueBlood the weekend of my birthday, and I haven't been able to get enough episodes to placate my obsession, thanks to the now defunct computer.

Another jab to my already blah mood is that I learned today that my supervisor was accepting a detail in the Administrator's office. This is a huge deal, and I'm really excited for her, but sad at the same time. When my first supervisor left for a position under the CEQ [aka White-House-run environmental gov org, other than the EPA] I was sad because I liked her alot and didn't think we'd get a supervisor I'd get along with. Turns out my current supervisor is also very awesome, and I was happy with the leadship. Now I'm worried about who the next manager will be. Somehow the position in our branch is some sort of charmed spring-board for the ambitious. People should be clamoring for this position: Once you get it, just wait a few months and you'll be promoted to a position connected to the White House. =.= It's pretty irksome that all these "higher" offices are using our office as some sort of talented fishing ground. They suck away all the great people and expect the rest of us to function. Our office seems to be losing mass amounts of institutional knowledge and ability to other offices. [sighdom]

I'll probably post more about the convention [with pictures] when I get back to DC. The Hilton Business Center computers don't let you upload pix...
 

I am a poor, wayfaring stranger...

Category: , , , By Felicity
There are some experiences that bring people from all walks of life together. These experiences transcend race, gender, politics, and orientation. Strangers band together like brothers and sisters for a common cause, a common hope. Their stories are unique, but the trials and the adversaries they face in this dark hour are one and the same.

I'm talking about waiting for the Chinatown bus. Especially ones that are an hour and a half late.

Within half an hour of waiting for a late bus, the walls raised in the name of creed and color come tumbling down. A white man in a sharp suit is listening intently to a Kenyan immigrant rant about how he's been waiting for 2 hours for a bus that hasn't bothered to come. A small group of European students are slumped against the wall looking forlorn, and a Japanese tourist offers one of them a cigarette. The student happily accepts it, and suddenly they're engaged in an animated conversation about their travels. I'm explaining to an Indian couple the different buses that also go to NY, including the Megabus, which just so happens to be nicer, cleaner, and has free wifi. They tell me about their previous visit to NY, and how they're bussing up to Boston right after they arrive, if the chinatown bus ever arrives to take them there. Two men are laughing about a joke they just shared; one is black and one is white. The scene is heart-warming in a United Colors of Benetton, “it's a small world after all“ kind of way. Too bad the bus is still an hour late.
It's already 11. I was supposed to be in Philly by now, but I missed the 8am bus, which was miraculously on time. Just my luck to be late for miracles. The ticket lady for the bus was such a bitch; I asked nicely and politely in Mandarin if I could take the next bus, which was supposedly at 10. Her face contorted so diabolically that it mangled her features. She scathingly demanded I read what my ticket said. There was another ticket lady who was slightly older in the booth. She looked at me almost with pity, but didn't say anything. I scanned my ticket, dreading the horrible word: non-refundable. No such word on my printed confirmation. I smiled in relief, and asked what she was talking about. “IT SAYS TO ARRIVE HALF AN HOUR EARLY!“ she spat.

I narrowed my eyes. “Yeah, but every single time I've taken your busses, it's always been an hour late.“ She lost her composure for a split second, then snarled that whatever time my ticket said the bus would leave, I was supposed to be there 30 minutes before. “What about my return trip? I bought a round-trip ticket.“
If her eyes could shoot laser beams and venom, I'd be dead. “You wait here, if there is an empty spot on the bus, then you can get on.“

I went home, rather than sit there for 2 hours, picked up some last minute things I realized I forgot to bring, and came back. The waiting room was packed now, and I grew anxious. The bitchy lady was still there, looking smug. Behind the glass, the silent Lady had been joined by a man in his early twenties. The evil lady yammered something about the bus coming, then walked out of the waiting room; the whole room of passengers scrambled to follow her. The silent lady came out of the booth to go to the restroom, leaving the man in the booth. Sweet. This was my chance. I switched to English, since Mandarin didn't seem to have given me any advantage the first time.

"I missed the 8 oclock bus, and the lady said I could take the 10 oclock one." Slight lie, and I didn't specify which lady. He looked at my ticket, looked slightly helpless, and waited for the silent lady to come back. Crap. He explained what I had told him in Mandarin, and she looked at me with suspicion.

“She told you you could get on only if there were empty spots, right?" she demanded in English, meaning the evil lady. I sheepishly nodded. The two conferred in hushed Mandarin.

“I don't see what's the bid deal, why can't we just let her get on the bus?"
“Just go in the system and change her time. It's not hard at all."
“I don't know why she always makes such a big fuss."
The nice lady went to the computer, looked up my confirmation number, and changed the departure time. All the while, they glanced at the waiting room entrance nervously, clearly worried that evil lady would barge in anytime and bust them. When they finally changed my departure time, the nice lady looked at me with worry in her eyes, and instructed that if evil lady asked about the ticket, I was to tell her that I had called the NY office, and say that they were ok with my time change. She signed my ticket as confirmation, and I now had a guaranteed spot on the 10am bus. I thanked the two of them profusely, and hurried out before evil lady could show up and snatch my ride away.

Turned out the bus wasn't actually here yet, and the evil lady was just creating a diversion for the passengers so when the bus was late for an hour, they wouldn't want to lose their spot in the line that had formed outside around the corner to go back to the waiting room to complain. So I waited. And waited. AND got really annoyed and started bitching and moaning about the lousy service and how my precious time that was swirling down the drain of no return, along with the 50 other passengers.

Waiting for transportation to show up. The story of my life.

PA Renaissance Fair update, coming soon.