To Los Angeles? Not!
As many of you already know, my trip out West has gotten off to a bad start, mainly because I haven't actually gotten there yet. I got to the airport, checked in, went through security, bought my usual grande non-fat vanilla latte at the Starbucks in United's mid-field terminal, and settled in for the six hour flight to LA. I whipped out my materials and began idly preparing for the deposition I was supposed to take tomorrow. I listened to obnoxious business men talk way too loudly on their cell phones about their dull and insignificant business deals. I overheard people speaking proudly about the fact that they had flown in to DC all the way from Dubuque.
The gate agents were just warming up to announce that United premier fliers (me) could pre-board and then general boarding would commence. I was walking down the gangplank, excited that I had a fabulous seat -- seat 9C. Before I got to the door of the aircraft, my cell phone rang. It was my secretary calling to say that the opposing lawyer had called and that the witness did not intend to show up tomorrow at the deposition. So
I turned around and marched up the gangplank.
It turns out that because my ticket was such an expensive fare (last minute business fare), the landing agents were willing not only to rearrange my itinerary and guarantee me great seats, but they probably would have cleaned my house and picked up my dry cleaning, too. I told them someone else could have seat 9C if they could get me on tomorrow evening's flight to LAX.
Not only did they do that, they told me which flight tomorrow is on a 777 (my favorite aircraft). They looked at me brightly when they said this: "There are plenty of premier seats available on the 5:50 flight, and it's a 777, to the extent you have an aircraft preference." Membership has its privileges. And now I know that I do indeed have an aircraft preference.
So now my trip to LA will involve little more than a court appearance in the Beverly Hills Courthouse -- during which I will be required to do nothing but sit there, look smashing, make friends, and take notes on court personnel and the cast of opposing lawyers -- and a meeting with an expert at which my boss will do most of the talking.
And I don't have to drag heavy exhibits around or engage in any taxing thought processes. And I get to move to a hotel more convenient to the Winona Ryder Courthouse -- the Century City Westin on the Avenue of the Stars, instead of the Dallas-esque glass high rise Westin in downtown LA.
posted by Anonymous @ 10:22 PM
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