Ein Schickes Autohaus

You'd think you'd walked into a five-star hotel.

The restroom has a cushioned bench and framed original art, not to mention full height doors that provide complete privacy in the toilet.

The counter top is solid granite, graced with high-end Kohler faucets.

The waiting lounge was clean, fresh, warm, with a touch of modern decor.

And a bar stocked with complimentary Fiji water and espresso, and not one, not two, but THREE flat screen television sets, two of which provide a live feed from the work shop.

Where was I? If it weren't for the faintest hint of the smell of rubber and car wax, like I said, you'd think you were in a five-star hotel lobby. Except, right on the other side of the waiting lounge are the latest models of cars from two-door coups to four-door performance SUV's. This was a car dealership. No, not just any car dealership. A very fancy car dealership.

The kind of dealership that complements you a very nice loaner car to drive while your car is being serviced in that high-tech, state-of-the-art shop to which you have a live view feed from the waiting lounge.

Don't let the Dodge logo fool you. The loaner car may have been made in Michigan, but this was no domestic car dealership. Verstehst du?

Auf wiedersehen.

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He Called Me Baby

Ah, once again I took the Island Hopper flight from Truk to Hawaii. Yes, I love that flight, except for when I can't sleep on the Majuro to Honolulu portion because of all the Cokes I'd drunk from Truk to Kwajelein. Continental merged with United in the last year, and is now part of the Star Alliance group. Upon taxiing to the runway a pre-flight video presentation is shown on the cabin monitors, in which Jeff Smisek, the CEO of the newly merged companies, makes two statements which catch my attention.

1. Hundreds of  airplanes have been repainted. When the plane landed in Truk I noticed that UNITED, in bleak, straight font replaced the once graceful "Continental Air Micronesia" on the plane's flanks.

Chuuk (Truk) International Airport

I asked the ground staff for a complimentary upgrade to business class. There were none available, but that was okay because I got to sit next to Mike, a slightly built, handsome flight attendant based out of Guam. Our conversation started by his complements about my brown clogs. He used to wear a black pair until the seams on the toes gave out to constant wear and tear from the cabin carts.

We were greeted by ominous clouds over Pohnpei (Ponape), an omen for the weather at my final destination.

A treat that one MUST get in Kosrae is their tangerines. Oh, they are sweet and absolutely juicy. I left my purse on the cart at the airplane so I didn't have any money on me. Thank goodness for the friendliness of the Marshallese people, for I bummed two dollars and fifty cents from a young man who was actually very happy to help me out. "They're that good?" he asked. Oh yes, they were worth more than the extra fifty cents I paid him back when we got back on the plane.

Tangerines in Kosrae.

I just had to show off my ecstasy from having gotten my palate on a whole bag of this food for the gods.

I was very surprised when the cabin crew announced that taking of photographs on/of Kwajelein was not permitted. I didn't want to find out what the punishment would be, so I kept my camera in its bag until we landed in Majuro. This is where the young man who loaned me the money to buy the tangerines disembarked. It was dark even before we landed, which made me look forward to a four and a half hour snooze en route to Honolulu.

But alas, sleep evaded me. I sat in "premium" exit row seats, which don't recline. Talk about torture! Which brings me to the second statement made by Jeff Smisek:

2. Along with eighty thousand employees, we provide great customer service. In Honolulu I had to deal with the United Airlines ground staff, which left me steaming and feeling very insignificant. By the way, it seems that women are the unpleasant (to say the least) staff. Come to think of it, the women flight attendants are the worst! It's like they hold a grudge against the customers. Once, I asked for help to stow my bag in the overhead compartment, and the woman flight attendant simply stated "I can't, I have a back problem," and walked away without even getting someone else to help me!

I asked the woman behind the counter in Honolulu for help. "It'll be a while before I get to you," she said as she arranged and rearranged rolls of stickers on the counter tops. I was at the Elite/Business/First Class check-in counter. Go figure! So I sought out a man at the economy class counter, asked him for a complimentary upgrade, and I got it!!! Triple exclamation. So as the sun peeked out from behind Diamond Head, and our airplane raced down the runway, I adjusted my headrest just so, wrapped a sterile smelling blanket around me, reclined the seat, and fell hard asleep until we touched down in San Francisco. (The woman flight attendant didn't wake me for breakfast.)

But that was not the best part. As I gathered my senses, getting ready for the last leg of my journey, I kept hearing Mike's, the Guam based flight attendant on the Island Hopper, Chamorro accented voice calling me "Baby." Baby, do you want another Coke? Baby, do you want more pretzels? Baby, have a safe trip home, and come fly the Island Hopper again soon! (I told him I loved the Island Hopper, and he loved me for that.) By the way, the flight crew on the Island Hopper was all men.

Yaaaaaaawn!


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