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Clay and I are planning a trip to Vegas this fall and five minutes spent on Allegiant Air’s website Wednesday night was sufficient enough time to remember a favorite airline pastime – swindling. Why inconveniently pay $40 online right now (of all times) to check one bag when you can wait and pay $70 when you get to the airport?
I suppose if travelers are embracing their “I’m on vacation; eff it!” attitude, why shouldn’t airlines profit? Still, you better hope your bag doesn’t weigh more than the maximum 40 pounds or, whoops, that’s another $50 coming out of your pocket.
AA employee: “Sir, our scales are re-calibrated daily; yours must be off at home.”
Traveler: “Yikes; now I’m worried about how much I really weigh. Ah, heck – no, I’m not because I’m on vacation!”
AA employee: “Actually, it looks like we’re going to have to charge you for two seats because your weight is over the 250-pound maximum for one seat.”
Traveler: “Wha…I weigh 245 pounds!”
AA employee: “The camera adds five pounds, and look…” Points to security camera and shrugs helplessly.
Traveler: “This is outrageous!”
AA employee: “Oh, and by the way? That ChapStick in your pocket next to the $50 you still owe us for your bag puts you over the maximum weight of pockets, so that’ll be another $5.50.”
Traveler: Jaw drops.
AA employee: “Did you just smirk at me? Hand over a fiver. Your mother taught you better than that.”
When did it start costing an additional $13 (per person) to sit together? I thought that was the whole point of buying a plane ticket. I’m sorry, but I could have a once in a lifetime opportunity to travel with Chuck Norris and I’d adamantly tell him, “Chuck. Hate to break it to you, man, but I’ll just wait to talk to you until we get off the plane.” Even if he had a slideshow of his all-time favorite Chuck Norris facts set to Walker, Texas Ranger theme music. Even if he promised to quiet that crying baby next to me with a swift roundhouse kick to the face.
Ok, now I truly am sorry. Chuck Norris would understand though, because Chuck Norris pinches pennies so hard that they elongate into souvenirs commemorating his thriftiness.
…I’ll keep working on that one.
So, you go through the process of purchasing a plant ticket online and you think, just like everyone who purchased a ticket before you has ever thought, I’ve gotta be almost done. Buying this ticket has taken so long that I’m starting to have second thoughts about even going on this trip. Maybe I should be saving this money to buy a house for my future kids, not waste it gambling in Vegas.
All those thoughts go through your mind as you nervously watch the progress bar at the bottom of the screen fill further and further, your finger on the mouse, lingering over the “Back” button, until BAM! It’s over.
Except it’s not. This is when the “Would you like to add _______” series of questions comes into play. The airline also chooses this time to make you feel extra paranoid and regretful about the flight you booked by stating there is a $200 charge just to change your itinerary. Between the “Are you sure you want to ______?” and “Would you like to add ________?” questions, it’s enough to drive anyone mad. It got me thinking. In the future, what other options might they suggest we add to our trip? Currently, you can package a flight, hotel, and rental vehicle together for the low price of just hundreds of dollars. What else could one possibly need on a flight to Vegas and then, upon arrival in the city of sin?
As a precursor to this blog, I want to wallow in self-pity and tell you that I have been sick for seven days. Biblical references state that seven days is the amount of time God spent creating the universe. I, however, have not been as productive in my weakened, congested, head-exploding state.
But Mr. Mucus certainly has.
A quick trip to mucinex.com made my cloudy mind so clear, helping me to better understand this seemingly mythical, but very real, evil character. You see, Mr. Mucus is a workaholic, and last week he became occupied with making my life miserable, putting in extra time at the office to give me a horrendous summer cold. (Could have put his overtime paychecks toward doing something nice, like buying me a pony, but apparently he thought I was just a snot-nosed kid.)
So busy and consumed was Mr. Mucus with this task that he hired more workers to bump up his phlegm inventory and in doing so, created a monster. He named this beast Sinus Infection. And Mr. Mucus saw everything that he had made and behold, it was very bad.
Of course by then, Mrs. Mucus was not a happy camper either, as her husband hadn’t been home in a good five days.
Just as she sought divorce papers, I found Mucinex.
According to Mucinex box information, one of the many benefits of the 12-hour pill (besides destroying all of Mr. Mucus’s inventory) is that it is also capable of making coughs productive.
It got me thinking one sleepless night when Mr. Mucus was once again hard at work and I was being held captive in the harrowing claws of Sinus Infection:
Exactly how productive are these coughs?
I like to think of them in little suits and ties, getting ready for work, all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. And so, I decided to put together a little pie chart on the industrious side effects Mucinex could have had on my coughs, should the information been taken out of context.
Mucinex made my coughs so productive, they…
In summation, the fight between Mucinex and Mr. Mucus? To put it quite simply, Mr. Mucus doesn’t stand a chance, especially once Antibiotics kick in (the door) to knock him out cold.