Chicago in the spring is like the middle of winter at home and I’m not sure I can handle all the black snow and the frozen door locks.
Arrived at the airport in time to work with the local rep and meet all the appointments he had arranged; however, the rental car was not cooperating. I tried the driver’s side, the passenger side, both were frozen shut. The trunk could not be opened even if I had a can opener with me. What to do?
I returned to the car rental desk to ask for assistance and I was assured someone would be right out to open the doors and get the heater going. I waited for more than a few long minutes and no one appeared. Back to the desk and asked again for assistance, and the women at the counter looked at me with a horrified look and said: “I totally forgot about you being outside in the cold.” Someone will be out there for sure this time. Finally, the man with the deicer arrived and he helped get the doors opened.
Upon arriving at the rep’s office, the office manager informed me the rep was not meeting me because of the ice and the bad weather, so I was on my own. What was so difficult for the rep to call me and let me know of his change of plans? I think I will resign my position and find another type of work where people care more about other people; it’s not as if I lived next door. Some respect should be given to those of us who travel long distances to work and are willing to dispense of our knowledge.
The office manager arranged for a copy of the appointments and I was able to meet the architects and designers as arranged, sans the local rep. I didn’t even try to make excuses for him, as I was quite upset for the disregard he showed me.
After all the appointments were completed at the end of the week, I felt a bit more relaxed; I returned the rental car and spent the day writing notes and organizing the following week. I asked the hotel clerk to arrange for a van to take me back to the airport the following morning and she complied.
The next morning, the assigned van driver was Mr. Personality himself as he crams the passengers into his van until there is no space to breathe. We’re finally loaded up and on our way to the airport, when the driver, an ambitious young man, decides he needs a couple more bodies to complete the run. He manages to accommodate 10 people into the van where it clearly says maximum 8 passengers. By now it’s getting hot and muggy so he turns on the air conditioner to make us more comfortable.
I’m sitting in the middle back seat where the vent is straight up on top of my head and it’s full blast. I raise my arm to move the vent direction to another side and discover the directional is missing; only a hole on the top of the van is showing. The cold air is now coming down directly on top of my head. If I catch a cold, who's responsible?
As a passenger was being delivered, the driver came around to unload his bags; another passenger shouts across to the one leaving: “Hey, those are my golf clubs”. The man turned around, looked at the bag and returned it to the van, but did not take another one, as he said, “I thought it was mine”.
Surprised? The owner of the golf bag for sure will never take another van to the airport, and I’m thinking the same thought. Now we know when happens when we lose a bag at the airport.