So what else are lovers good for?
It’s nice to have multiple choices of people to bail you out of trouble at inconvenient times.
As sometimes happens, I missed one of my two connections while I was flying home from an exotic location. The location was remote enough that my blackberry only worked for texting, not phone access. I needed to text someone and get them to call the airline so they can rebook me on a new flight (the location is also exotic enough that the airline doesn’t actually have a counter at the airport).
First, the most obvious option, and the one everybody else uses: the spouse. I send the spouse a text. Ten minutes later, no response.
OK, next try the one who’s uber-competent at getting results he wants at ticketing agencies and who always loves to help: the non-spousal primary. Still, no response. To be fair, I’m no longer willing to wait 10 minutes. Also, I’m in a cab at this point trying to get to a hotel, so there’s no internet available. I know there’s no way I’m getting out of town that night.
The secondary is always asleep at that time, but might as well try him anyway (miracles happen), and I’ve never asked the girlthing for anything this serious, but you’ve got to start sometime, so I ping her, too. Still awaiting responses.
Who else do people find in emergencies? The parents can’t even open their old flip-phone, much less figure out that they’ve got a text message waiting (do they even have that service?). The siblings have youngsters crawling all over them and therefore don’t do well waiting on hold, but I might as well ask anyway...
Mid-thought, the girlthing pings me back. Lovers’ network to the rescue! I explain the situation, and she happily calls the airline, who sends her to the travel agency, who sends her to the travel agency’s emergency after-hours number. Luckily for me, it’s a rare moment of lethargy for her, and she has nothing better to do than sit on the couch and wait on hold. She sends updates and questions. I send answers. I express empathy that she’s on the couch, on the phone, and on hold. She points out it gives her a good chance to write up one of her recent fantastic sexual experiences. I get curious.
The spouse is still nowhere to be found. I hope he eventually gets the message that I’m not going to make it to our appointed pick-up time.
Then the non-spousal primary pings me back. Might he be helpful? Maybe, but I’ve already got one of you on the phone on my behalf. Please hold in case of failure, and then we may have to make use of advanced persuasion skills to get me home. He keeps me entertained by periodically updating me on what’s going on, and asking for status updates (there are none). The girlthing waits patiently, listening to Muzak.
This is the anti-lonely travel experience. I’m alone in a hotel room in a country where I know nobody, don’t speak the language, and with no real hope of getting home soon. But I’ve got one person working hard on my behalf, and one person just entertaining me. I have nothing to do but wait and listen. And I do get to listen, with supportive lovers checking in frequently. I’m sleepy, and nothing looks like it’s going to get solved soon. However, there’s coffee in my carry-on (my original location was one of those places with exquisite locally-grown coffee), and a bona-fide coffee maker in my hotel room, so I might as well test out the treats I got myself. Sleepiness subsides, and drug-induced happiness sets in.
The spouse is still nowhere to be found.
The Muzak has changed! I get the update that the travel agent is talking to yet another person at a different department, and so there’s new hope of success.
There’s a bathtub in my anti-lonely hotel room, and I smell like I’ve been in the same set of clothes for three days (I haven’t, but I was not privy to air conditioning for a while before my flight). Might as well draw myself a bath while drinking ridiculously delicious coffee and reading updates on the one mobile device of mine that works. Life is good. And comfortable.
And then... triumph is ours! I’ve been promised a flight out about 24 hours after my original one. With imminent bedtime, a late check-out, an unexpected day to explore a new location, and a ticket home, all is right with the world.
And *then* the girlthing sends me her write-up of her most recent new sexy experience. She has of coursed finished and polished the document a few times over while on hold, and she sends it to me in celebration of successful airline-ticketing. I read it. And I get hot. And my eyes bug out of my head. And then other stuff happens before said imminent bedtime.
“Good night, Princess!” the final update reads.
And I fall asleep feeling well cared for.
And still, the spouse is nowhere to be found.
*****
Questions or comments? I’ve got opinions! Try my at polysaturated@rocketmail.com.
It’s nice to have multiple choices of people to bail you out of trouble at inconvenient times.
As sometimes happens, I missed one of my two connections while I was flying home from an exotic location. The location was remote enough that my blackberry only worked for texting, not phone access. I needed to text someone and get them to call the airline so they can rebook me on a new flight (the location is also exotic enough that the airline doesn’t actually have a counter at the airport).
First, the most obvious option, and the one everybody else uses: the spouse. I send the spouse a text. Ten minutes later, no response.
OK, next try the one who’s uber-competent at getting results he wants at ticketing agencies and who always loves to help: the non-spousal primary. Still, no response. To be fair, I’m no longer willing to wait 10 minutes. Also, I’m in a cab at this point trying to get to a hotel, so there’s no internet available. I know there’s no way I’m getting out of town that night.
The secondary is always asleep at that time, but might as well try him anyway (miracles happen), and I’ve never asked the girlthing for anything this serious, but you’ve got to start sometime, so I ping her, too. Still awaiting responses.
Who else do people find in emergencies? The parents can’t even open their old flip-phone, much less figure out that they’ve got a text message waiting (do they even have that service?). The siblings have youngsters crawling all over them and therefore don’t do well waiting on hold, but I might as well ask anyway...
Mid-thought, the girlthing pings me back. Lovers’ network to the rescue! I explain the situation, and she happily calls the airline, who sends her to the travel agency, who sends her to the travel agency’s emergency after-hours number. Luckily for me, it’s a rare moment of lethargy for her, and she has nothing better to do than sit on the couch and wait on hold. She sends updates and questions. I send answers. I express empathy that she’s on the couch, on the phone, and on hold. She points out it gives her a good chance to write up one of her recent fantastic sexual experiences. I get curious.
The spouse is still nowhere to be found. I hope he eventually gets the message that I’m not going to make it to our appointed pick-up time.
Then the non-spousal primary pings me back. Might he be helpful? Maybe, but I’ve already got one of you on the phone on my behalf. Please hold in case of failure, and then we may have to make use of advanced persuasion skills to get me home. He keeps me entertained by periodically updating me on what’s going on, and asking for status updates (there are none). The girlthing waits patiently, listening to Muzak.
This is the anti-lonely travel experience. I’m alone in a hotel room in a country where I know nobody, don’t speak the language, and with no real hope of getting home soon. But I’ve got one person working hard on my behalf, and one person just entertaining me. I have nothing to do but wait and listen. And I do get to listen, with supportive lovers checking in frequently. I’m sleepy, and nothing looks like it’s going to get solved soon. However, there’s coffee in my carry-on (my original location was one of those places with exquisite locally-grown coffee), and a bona-fide coffee maker in my hotel room, so I might as well test out the treats I got myself. Sleepiness subsides, and drug-induced happiness sets in.
The spouse is still nowhere to be found.
The Muzak has changed! I get the update that the travel agent is talking to yet another person at a different department, and so there’s new hope of success.
There’s a bathtub in my anti-lonely hotel room, and I smell like I’ve been in the same set of clothes for three days (I haven’t, but I was not privy to air conditioning for a while before my flight). Might as well draw myself a bath while drinking ridiculously delicious coffee and reading updates on the one mobile device of mine that works. Life is good. And comfortable.
And then... triumph is ours! I’ve been promised a flight out about 24 hours after my original one. With imminent bedtime, a late check-out, an unexpected day to explore a new location, and a ticket home, all is right with the world.
And *then* the girlthing sends me her write-up of her most recent new sexy experience. She has of coursed finished and polished the document a few times over while on hold, and she sends it to me in celebration of successful airline-ticketing. I read it. And I get hot. And my eyes bug out of my head. And then other stuff happens before said imminent bedtime.
“Good night, Princess!” the final update reads.
And I fall asleep feeling well cared for.
And still, the spouse is nowhere to be found.
*****
Questions or comments? I’ve got opinions! Try my at polysaturated@rocketmail.com.
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