travelogue 29 by timcaynes

having secreted by bag under the seat in front, which a week later would cause an easyjet fascist to go apoplectic, I had full access to my laptop which I never use on a flight but which I might just need to recharge my walkman which I used pretty much the entire flight as the movies were a thrilling collection of straight-to-dvd romantic comedies or documentaries about sharks and hitler but I didn't need to recharge so as we make our final descent, I have to rudely interrupt blood red shoes by putting anything that resembles anything electrical into the off position in case it brings down the pentagon but I secretly shaved of half my face an noone noticed except the occasional judder over fort collins and then we're on the ground. nobody claps or anything. they don't do that these days.

the newly hatched coccon lady smiles as she drops her bag on my head and we're off to the terminal building to waft through native american new age audio loops across travelators over the runway and into the immigration hall where everyone has a big fight because they need a fight after 10 hours and I quietly slip through to the concourse and hit the avis bus just as its pulling away from the kerb. never mind, there'll be another one in a minute. which there is. name? caynes. caysneses? Caynes. c-a-y-n-e-s. ok, mr caynell, welcome to denver. you'll be the first stop for avis preferred, look for your name on the board. thanks.

surprised not in the least that my name isn't actually on the board, I saunter into the preferred desk looking like a weary englishman who might write books about airports or something for a living. can I help sir? yes, my name doesn't appear to be on the board. I'm sorry mr cornell, let me check for you. cornell? that's not my name. what is your names sir? caynes. c-a-y-n-e-s. I'm sorry sir, but you don't appear to be on the board, can I ask you to rummage through your hand luggage to find your preferred card which is in the wallet at the bottom of the last bag you look in? can I just say, you ALWAYS GET MY NAME WRONG. WHAT'S WRONG WITH THAT? one moment sir. (tap tap tappy tap). mr caynes? yes. (tap tap tappy tappy tap tap tappy tap). would a mustang be ok for you today sir? (pause). at what cost? at the regular economy rate today sir. (pause). um, ok. would you like satellite navigation option with that today sir. are you taking the piss? just give me the muscle car.

the consequence of having a name that can't be spelled correctly is that often don't get what you asked for, however in america, that also means you get something better to make up for it in most cases, especially if you are on some preferred program or other. so I now have the mustang. again. I got the mustang the first time they got my name wrong at hertz, but I had no clue how to drive it then and spent at least half an hour bunny hopping it out of the car lot to the amusement of a gathering crowd of attendants. no mistakes this time. oops, wrong door. dammit. actually, I was just putting my bag on the passenger seat ok?

© Tim Caynes. This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License

Disclaimer: I work for Sun Microsystems, but this is nothing to do with them and it's all my fault, even though I might sometimes mention Solaris or something.