Ticketmaster and Used Condoms

I went to school at George Washington University. If you live in DC, you're familiar with GW and its students because we work in every non-profit, NGO and government office in the city.

We're like vermin. We're not that smart and not that motivated, but we multiply and invade while spreading plague.

Unlike most people who attend GW, I couldn't rely on my daddy's fortune to get by. To make ends meed, I worked at the GWU Ticketmaster for almost four years. It was a lot of fun.

Most people would refuse to acknowledge your existence. They'd talk on their cellphones while paying for tickets. They'd talk to their butlers while their butlers paid for tickets. My only pleasure in life came from rejecting rich girls who tried to use their daddy's credit card:

"I'm sorry ma'am. But the name on you license does not match the name on your credit card."

"But that's my dad's credit card. See, the last name is the same!"

"Yes, I see that ma'am but Ticketmaster has a very strict policy regarding these things and there's nothing I can do about it. Would you like to pay for your Dave Matthews tickets in cash?"

We worked in a tiny office in the Student Union basement. It was across from the "Radio Station." This proved to be absolute hell because the "Radio Station" closed during holiday and summer breaks. When closed, they would loop the same pre-recorded radio show all day and all night long.

I got to hear DJ Voice 3000 introducing the same Hoobastank, Creed and Linkin Park "hits" OVER AND OVER AGAIN. Take it from me, college radio ROXX!!

On one particularly memorable Saturday morning, I opened the office with two fellow Ticketmasters--Jimmy G and Anna. Jimmy G was a smelly anarchist who refused to use shampoo. Anna was a nice pre-med student. We got along like gangbusters. Anna started doing some paperwork while Jimmy G opened up a register. I was setting my bag down in the backroom when I came across something strange.

A used condom.

Right there on the floor, in plain sight, there was a lovely little used condom. I think Anna screamed and possibly fainted. Jimmy G seemed kinda amused. I was amused but also screamed. We called up the University Police (aka the UPD) on our trusty walkie talkies. They came down to investigate.

Two burly "officers" came in, looked at the condom and said, "yup, that's a condom."

They asked us what happened, where we've been and what we've been doing. I had that classic Law & Order moment of "wait a minute, am I a suspect here?"

They seemed particularly interested in me and Anna. Even though we insisted that there was "nothing going on" between the two of us, we couldn't shake the suspicion. Evidently the UPD, and later our boss, and subsequently the entire student union building thought Anna and I had snuck into the Ticketmaster office for some hot sex prior to opening up on Saturday Morning. Or maybe they thought we opened up the office, then with Jimmy G by the registers, got nasty in the back room.

Either way, it lead to some uncomfortable stares over the next year. Everyone assumed I enjoyed getting busy in the back room.

Cut to a couple years later when I was living in Berlin, I get a message from Jimmy G on friendster:

Date: Thursday, February 19, 2004 7:26 PM
Subject: Now That You're In Germany...

Message: remember the condom incident at Ticket Master?

IT WAS MEEEE!!!!

I responded:

Date: Friday, February 20, 2004 3:47 PM
Subject: Re: Now That You're In Germany...

dude, you must be joking, please explain before i vomit.

So James explained:

Date: Saturday, February 21, 2004 12:8AM
Subject: Re: Now That You're In Germany...

well, you see. The previous night I had sex with this lady *****, and we didn't really finish, so I was tired and I fell asleep with it on. In the morning, I forgot it was still on and I put my underwear on and went to work cuz I was late.

It musta fell off between the pant legs at some point in ticketmaster.

Hahaha, and you were blaming UPD the whole time. Of course, I had to wait till you were out of *****'s range by about 1,000 miles or more before I could tell you as to avoid getting fired.

And thus, we solved the case of the filthy used condom. What have we learned? Smelly anarchists who don't bathe get a lot of action. Also, don't read Friendster messages from long-lost friends without a puke bucket nearby.

Helicopter Pilots, Gas Prices and Bush

Strangely enough, the Office and Professional Employees International Labor Union (OPEIU) represents an increasing number of helicopter pilots. That's right, the union of clerical and office staff represents grizzled Vietnam-vet 'copter jockies at many of the major helicopter operations in the country.

OPEIU has been negotiating with one such operator, PHI Inc., for 29 months. Things have gotten so bad that helicopter pilots at PHI may go on strike at the end of August.

So why should anyone care?

PHI pilots work in the offshore oil & gas industry. They fly out key personnel and equipment to major oil rigs in the Gulf Coast.

We're not talking about Mom & Pop's Gas & Gulp, we're talking about Exxon, BP and Shell.

If the pilots go on strike, expect some serious repercussions. PHI will not be able to find scabs. The industry is facing a critical shortage of trained helicopter pilots and they won't be able to find replacements.

I'm no expert, but I can't imagine offshore oil rigs located miles out to sea will be able to operate without helicopters. You can't land a plane on a helicopter landing pad. So unless Exxon starts stacking up on A-10 warthogs, I don't think they'll be able to keep their rigs in operation.

Now this is where it gets sticky. The industry falls under the Railway Labor Act. The President could end a strike through a Presidential Order. Sound familiar?

Would Bush do such a thing? To prevent a spike in gasoline prices, you bet. But the real question is, would the administration let things go that far? The last thing they want is for gasoline prices to go any higher. It would mean even more bad press in an election year of incredibly bad press. So will the administration tell PHI to settle the damn thing, or will there be a Reaganesc showdown in the Gulf Coast?

Wait & see.

Delta Steals Laptops?

I arrived in Philadelphia embarrassed and exhausted, but happy to see Mandie. We met up in Center City and walked over to the Windsor Hotel. She wanted to see if Delta had delivered her luggage.

Delta Airlines lost Mandie's luggage on Thursday August 10th enroute to Washington D.C. via Cincinnati. She told them they'd have to deliver it to her in Philadelphia, as she had to travel there for work.

Thursday August 10th, if you remember, was a nightmarish day to travel. The foiled terrorist plot resulted in mass confusion at airports across the country. Passengers were confused about what they could and could not bring onto planes. TSA agents were confused about how to properly dispose of potentially explosive "chemicals". Security checkpoint lines stretched across entire airports, and countless flights were delayed.

For this reason it could have been understandable that Delta lost her luggage--if her luggage hadn't been lost for three days the week before by Alaska Airlines.

Shockingly, Delta had not delivered her suitcases to the hotel. She called several times that Friday night and eventually spoke to someone who said her bags would arrive in Philadelphia the next morning at 10am. We waited around all day on Saturday without hearing from Delta. Mandie called them that afternoon and after demanding to know where her bags were, informed them that she expected to be reimbursed for her trouble. The customer service rep from Delta explained to her that her bags would be delivered soon, and since her bags had not been lost for an entire 24 hours, she was not entitled to compensation.

For the record, Delta lost her bags on Thursday evening. It was now Saturday evening. Perhaps they don't stress math requirements when hiring at Delta?

Miraculously, Mandie's bags arrived on Saturday night. She opened up her suitcase to find her laptop gone. Not just the laptop, but the laptop case as well as her iGo charger.

The charger had been packed separately. Whoever took her laptop not only opened up the suitcase to take out the laptop and case, but rifled through the suitcase to search for the charger.

Mandie immediately called Delta. The customer service rep she spoke to basically mocked her, saying "Well, why did you pack your laptop?"

Mandie said, "Because they were telling us to only bring essential items on the plane. While standing in line I heard someone say that we couldn't bring on laptops."

Delta would "file a claim" for the missing items, but that's about it. They don't reimburse for "electronic items". Additionally, they would not tell Mandie which courier service delivered her luggage to the Windsor Hotel. To top it off, it takes Delta 8-10 weeks to process claims.

We ran downstairs and asked the front desk if they knew what company just delivered her bags. They didn't know, and noted that the deliveryman had taken both receipts.

Mandie called up her travel agency to see if they had any advice. They suggested filing a police report in Philadelphia. We called up the police and explained the situation, but after talking to two police officers (including one who hung up on her), she was told that because she couldn't PROVE the crime occurred IN Philadelphia, they would not file a report.

Some racket! Delta can lose your possessions for days on end and later return them with about $1300 worth of electronic equipment missing, without any fear of consequence!

Not only that, but these courier services can theoretically search through your belongings and take their pick of your stuff without ever being investigated by an airline company or police agency!

Seriously, how are airlines losing money? This is a growth opportunity! It's a veritable Mac Powerbook Pipeline of free merchandise! Ipods, designer cologne and blackberry's gratis!

"That flight to Vegas will be seven hundred dollars, sir. Please remember to check all expensive items in your suitcases. We will not be held responsible for any lost items. Thank you for flying Delta!"

I Expose Myself to a Bus Full of People

Mandie has been traveling a lot lately. She flew in from Vegas on Thursday night and had to drive up to Philly the next morning. I decided to catch a bus up to Philly on Friday afternoon so that we could spend the weekend together.

I took a Chinatown bus. The way I figure it, why pay 45 dollars for a Greyhound when you can pay 15 dollars for a Chinatown bus that might catch on fire? Things were looking good around 3:45 when I was one of only three people on the bus. I spread out all my stuff on the seat next to me and relaxed. Then around 3:50 people started to come in mass numbers. At five to 4, most seats were filled but the seat next to me was still empty. Then at the last second before the bus pulled out, two rather large women stepped onto the bus. The first woman sat in the seat behind me, and the second woman---a person of at least 300 pounds, sat down in the seat next to me.

I have nothing against overweight people but I just don't like sitting next to them on buses. Especially Chinatown buses. There just isn't enough room. As a rather skinny person, they inevitably take over part of my seat and I'm relegated to scrunching my arms together like a barking seal. It makes for an uncomfortable trip.

She quickly fell asleep. Not only could I not get out to use the bathroom, but she kept falling into me. Coupled with the person in front of me leaning her seat back onto my knees and the air conditioning not working, I was miserable.

The bus stopped briefly in Baltimore, at which time my seat-neighbor got up to use the facilities. When she got back, I used the opportunity to get up and use the bathroom myself. As soon as I got back there the bus started moving again. I went into the bus-bathroom and locked the door. I took a wiz. As I was pulling up my boxers, the bus driver slammed on the brakes. I flew back and slammed against the wall. My right arm slammed against the "locked" bathroom door which promptly flew open.

With my pants down and hands covering my shame I curtly shouted, "Jesus fucking christ!" to the bus full of startled passengers. I quickly grappled for the bathroom door and attempted to shut it. Unfortunately, the "lock" was still turned so the door would not shut. It took me several moments to properly unlock the door so that I could shut it, while at the same time pulling up my pants with the other free hand.

After closing the door, I buttoned up my pants and tried to prepare for the embarrassment of walking back to my seat. Should I smile and make a joke? Should I walk back quickly without looking up? Should I walk out with my pants down and say, "oh no, not again!?"

I went for the first option. As I opened the door I noticed a group of twenty-something women smiling at me. I tried to smile but it felt forced.

A smooth-operator would say something like, "Want to see more, ladies?" while making that shooting-gun hand motion.

I mumbled something like, "my wee wee fell out of my pants" and ran back to my seat in shame.