Uber-ing. That Is A Verb, Right?

Flying the friendly skies this week.  My compadres are in various states of rest…one is sleeping, one is playing Candy Crush.

I decided I would use the time to write a bit.

Because I know that you’ve been waiting for yet another blog post.

I know you lose sleep at night, waiting on me.

Right?

No?

Darn.  Okay, let me keep my illusions of grandeur for a minute or two, okay?

Okay, minute’s up, and I’m back to reality.

 We have been Ubering quite a bit lately.

In Spokane a couple of weeks ago, I think we Ubered (is that a verb?) something like 12 times.

And the grand total was STILL cheaper than a rental car for a week.

I really like it, for the most part.  But I really, really like people.  I like finding out what makes them tick.  And why they’re doing Uber.  And if they’re doing Uber for a full-time job.  If they have kids.  I want to know the entire drill.

And it’s so cool to me!

In my albeit limited experience, I have found:

Most Uber drivers with family want to set their own schedules. They want to be able to be with their families from this hour to that hour, every single day.

Most single night time Uber drivers are men.  I believe that’s because it’s safer.  And they might not be too worried.  And before an Uber driver can pick someone up, their credit card has to be on file with the company, etc.

The single lady night time Uber drivers pick their times, and the ones that we have had final their rides prior to 11 p.m.  And I don’t blame them.  Crazy stuff can happen after that hour, and I wouldn’t want to be party to it.

Not at all.

Anyway, hats off to the Uber Drivers we have used thus far. 

Job well done.  Now if we could just tip via the app.

Fred Ex was our Uber Driver today.  Love it.

And give 5 stars, as your app would say.

Weeeeener Weeeeener!

Friday found me in Houston at the SPE Sporting Clays shoot.

It was hot.

It was muggy.

I was in hormonal woman meltdown mode.

Until this girl, my friend Jenaya, won this...

Yup.  AND a $500 gift card.  She had a very, very, very good day!

And, I had a good day, as well.  I shot an 81/100.  Not bad for picking up my shotgun for the first time in almost a year.  While melting.

I was happy.

To top it all off, my coworker Chesney ordered us these cute pink shooting shirts - we were the only all-woman team at the shoot.  Jenaya, Chesney, Joy and Janie! We had a great time!

Bring it, shooting season!  We got this!

I Can Bat My Big Brown Eyes And Get Anything I Want...NOT.

Well, glory be and hallelujah, my new driver’s license showed up in the mail today.  It’s an every 5 year or so occurrence...Well, unless your physical address is not the same address where you receive your mail.

I renewed my license timely.  I didn’t receive it timely, though.

And, as you know, I travel.  A lot.  Which translates to the use of rental cars.  A lot of rental cars.   And though I rented cars for a two-week period on an almost daily basis with an expired license, truth is, I knew that any day, I was going to get caught.  And I did.

Unfortunately for me,  it was at midnight, at the National rental car location in Houston, at Intercontinental Airport.

At the exit.  Driving OUT the exit.  At the little booth where they say, “Prepay your fuel this time, Ms. Janie?”  I was THAT close, people.

Yup.  They wouldn’t let me leave.  I had to back up, unpack the car, and go inside.

So, I went into the counter (oh, my gosh, I love NOT having to do that, which is only one  of the reasons National is going to get a bye on this one.  I’m Executive Level with them, so I get to bypass the counter AND pick out whatever I want to drive), explain my situation, go through the Texas DPS drill on the iPad.  I put in my license number, my birthday, and show them where the license has been mailed, while showing them my expired license that I have in hand.

Guess what?  

The manager said no way, Jose.  Even though I had rented two cars in the two prior days from National with an expired license,and their computer history proved it, they wouldn’t let me rent.  I kept talking, and reasoning that even if I got stopped by the police, they’d let me go once they ran my license through the system.  And I showed them my CHL.  (They weren’t impressed.)  I showed them my passport.  (They weren’t impressed with that, either.)  I showed them my insurance card.  (Same, same.) Then, the manager said, okay, she’d let me rent.  Then, she thought about it, and she said she couldn’t let me rent.  Then, she gave in again, and said she would, just this once.  (Okay, I did let my eyes water a little sometime during this harrowing experience.)  

And talk about sucky perfect  timing?  About this time, the gate guard called to check to see if they were going to let me rent, or did they need to repark the car?

The manager?  Was now busted by her underling.

(I should have known better than to weaken to almost tears.  Dang it.  Manipulation is not my strong suit. My face cracks.)  (Don’t even ask me to play poker.) I freaking jinxed myself.

She said, “Mizzzzzz (she drawled it out) Janie, I’m sorry, the gate guard called someone higher than me and I’m unable to let you take the car.”

And this is what I said, and I was super nice about it:

 “Really?  No, honey, here’s what happened. Here’s the real drill.  In our earlier conversations, you told me there was no one higher than you that you could call.  So your employee called you to check on what to do with the car, and basically caught you bending the rules a little, so you decided to walk it out according to your policy. Right?  And I totally understand that.  Now what?  Any suggestions?”

And I do understand.  But dang, people, it was midnight. I'm at the remote rental car location.  No taxi anywhere.  I wanted to go to my hotel.  I’d been traveling almost 24 hours.  I had been to Virginia and back in one day.  And I would have been so much more amenable had she just told me the freaking truth.

ThatManILove says I have a BS monitor that’s tuned to a WAY high frequency.  That puppy was vibrating, let me tell ya.  I KNEW she was lying.

She looked at me, and hung her head.  I said, “Seriously.  I really understand.  Y’all have procedures, and you must adhere to them. I get that.  I’m just tired, I need to get to sleep, and I have customers to see tomorrow in downtown Houston.”

Her counter help chimed in about this time, and said, “Hey, Janie.  I have an idea.  I used to work at Avis.  Email me that page with your license renewal, I’m going to print it off for you.  Go to the counter, tell them your story, show them that paper, and I bet they’ll let you rent. If they don’t, I’ll personally call a taxi for you.”

I profusely thanked them both, walked over to Avis, armed with a copy of the page from the DPS with my license # on it and the page that said it had been renewed and in the mail, and told the counter clerk the entire story.  He turned around, found his manager, and they let me rent.  No problem.

When I got to the hotel, I emailed the TX DPS and asked them where my license was. Two days later, I received a reply (which I appreciated) saying that they had mistakenly mailed it to my house address (it’s a Texas law that your residential address be printed on your license) and that it had been returned to them and they had to print another and were going to mail it as soon as it was out of production.

I tell you all that to tell you this:

When it’s getting close to your birthday, check to see if it’s time to renew your license, because you’re not always going to receive a reminder (I didn’t.)

When you do renew your license, do it in a timely manner (I did...just not timely enough for all my traveling.)

And when you haven’t received it within 10 days of them mailing it to you?  Check on it again.  Something’s wrong.  The Texas DPS License division is like a machine.  They spit that stuff out muy pronto.

And be nice to the counter help.  ALWAYS.  They have rules.  And sometimes they can bend those rules.  Sometimes, they can’t.

And hey, another good thing happened out of it all - it did provide a little bit of blog fodder, right?  Kinda gives ThatManILove a break.

Sheeeeeesh.

It’s never boring around here!

All You Need Is Love - Dallas Love Field, That Is. (A Favorite) (Part 4)

More of the cool art work from Dallas Love Field.  I have always loved this song, always will.

This is a mantra in which I totally believe...Love can cure a myriad of ills.

(Plus, I love that this young artist put a dog in the picture.  Right?)

So, go...love on someone today!

Weapons of Mass Construction

If you’re a faithful reader, you’ll know that I’ve been traveling like crazy lately.

Which translates to lots of rental cars, airlines, hotels, and TSA Peeps checking you out through the “I Can See Every Organ In Your Body” Scanner.

Friday night, I’m heading to the Houston airport.  Running a little late, due to intense traffic.

But I make it.  I arrive a little under an hour prior to my flight.

I check my luggage, get my passes, and head to security.

Where they inform me that my license is expired.  I knew that already, it’s in the mail, and that’s another story entirely.  Besides, I have my passport, which is in good working order.  Then they go through the statement, which I’ve heard now about 10 times, “Well, it’s okay, your expired license is good for an ID for 1 year.”

Whatever.

I trip over to the A-List security check point, which is pretty dang fast.

And I head to the scanner, drop my shoes, take out my laptop, and start the scanning process.

“Ma’am, step right here, and place your feet on the yellow marked areas, and face that way.  Hold your arms above your head as per the picture.”

Right.  I could seriously do this part in my sleep, people.

The TSA agent says, “Okay, ma’am, step out, and right over here.”

The TSA lady smiles, and says, “Let me see your bracelets.”  (Bracelets usually bling the scanner x-ray, especially if they have any metal in them.) 

I do.

Then she smiles, and says, “What is this?”  and points at the scanner.  “Did your necklace come loose?”

I feel my necklace, it’s still on.  

I’m confused.  I turn back, look at the scanner, and I see what she sees.  What the eternal heck is THAT?

She says, “Honey, I’m going to have to pat you down, follow me.”

Okayyyyyyyyy.

She begins to pat me down in the offending area, and I now FEEL the object.  I can’t see it, I have on a high neckline shirt today.

I just looked at her, and we both had this puzzled look on our faces.

I said, “Well, can I look down my shirt? I’ll keep both my hands in view at all times.”

She says, with some reservation, “Yes.”

I looked.

I cracked up, and looked at her.  Without touching anything, I begin to explain what I think it is.  Which is hard because I'm already starting to get really tickled.  And people, this is NOT the time to get hysterical.

She’s super reserved, but smiling.  She doesn’t know whether to call in the troops, tell me to throw my hands up in the air, or let me carry on.  I look so dangerous, right?  With my conservative shirt, jean leggings and Kenneth Cole flats?

I finally sputter out what I think the object is, and she starts really smiling and even snickering.  I am SOOOO embarrassed, people.

I said, “Do YOU need to look down my shirt to verify that it is what I say it is?  It’s okay.”   She barely peeks in, and smiles a little bigger.  I think I heard her even snort!  The NERVE! 

I tell her, “I think I can get it all the way out, if you’ll allow me.”

She nods, now really trying hard not to laugh.  After all, she has a job to do, right?

I reach inside the neck of my shirt, and pull this out.

It’s the underwire to my bra.  It had worked almost completely out of my bra and was almost sticking out of my shirt.  It looked like the curved end of a scythe on the xRay scanner.  

It COULD have been a weapon of mass destruction, people.  COULD have been!

There’s no telling what all they’ve seen, but I have a feeling this was a first!  I’ll probably end up in the TSA Chronicles...

As I think about it again, it’s a wonder I wasn’t detained, or at the very least, subjected to a strip search.

But you know the drill - it’s never boring around here. 

Hotel Travel Trip - Valet Parking

I started doing this last year some time.

I travel...a lot.  Frequently, I drive.  And stay in hotels.

I get lots of valet tickets.  Which leads me to the gist of this post.  But I digress.

I get lots of valet tickets.

And...I lose them.

So, I've started taking a picture of the ticket with my phone.

I always know the number.  I can show it at the valet stand when I need to pick up my truck.  It kind of freaks the valet out, they're not quite hip to the electronic versions, but usually you can talk your way through it.

And that, my friends, is your travel trip of the day.

Is Anybody Going To San Antone...

ThatManILove and I, once we’re finally packed, heading out of town post-Starbucks, jamming to our favorite tunes...

Him:  “What?”

Me:  “How do we go to San Antonio from here?”  (a nice way to say, “Ahem.”)

Him:  “Well, I’m gonna go the way I usually do, you know, down Rankin Highway thru Spraberry to Big Lake.”

Me:  “Hmmmm.” (a nice way to say, “Seriously???”) 

Him:  “Why?”

Me:  “Well, babe, Sprayberry is that way...”  (pointing east)  (we’re heading south)

Him:  “Well, it dang sure is.”

I love ThatManILove.

Wait.  Was that a redundant statement?

I Told You...It's Never Boring Around Here

Well.

It's never boring around here.

We were headed home today, decided to stop for lunch in Irving.  Ran into a friend.  Ate, visited, had a great time.

Left the restaurant and what do we see?

Yup.  That's exactly what you think it is.  My window was broken.  Shattered.  

My heart jumped into my throat.  My head wanted me to have left the window down...but my heart?  Knew.  

We had been robbed.

We were packed to head home.  And in the second seat floorboard?  Two cases.

Bummer.

This is my first list of what all is missing, that I can remember, and an estimated cost.  (Which, now I know, I lowballed the MacBookPro.  I know this because I just went and purchased the replacement.)

I forgot my Speedlite Flash.  My Samsonite spinner case.

Then, this morning, remembered several sets of premium seat concert tickets...for George Jones.  Peter Frampton with Robert Cray.  Boz Scaggs.  Now I'm chasing those receipts down to get those replaced.

I'm sure I'll remember stuff for days.

Rockin' the Fort Worth Downtown…I Love It Here

So...

I’ve spent the latter part of this week at the Harts DUG Permian Basin conference in downtown Fort Worth.

Do y’all know how much I love Fort Worth?

I’ve had dinner with some major executives...my company hosts a speaker dinner, which was a lot of fun.  An intimate venue, at Del Frisco’s, and I was blessed to be invited.

The next morning, the real conference commenced.  I saw tons of customers, and our lunchtime speaker was retired General Colin Powell.  He gave an interesting talk, and proved he knows virtually nothing about the energy business.   He was treated superbly by our industry representation at that conference, and I think there were 2200+ people there.  I am proud of our industry, and the people in it.  They laid down their political beliefs for one hour, and honored a man who had served our country, and did it well.

I’m proud of anyone who fights alongside, and leads our troops, in defending this country and the people who call America home.  

I met so many people, saw so many friends, and even got to hang out a little with Elder Son and his Cowdog/Hunting Dog (if that sounds funny, it is - it’s a trick Elder son has taught the pup) tonight.  And that, people, made my year.

Pea Eye Parker the Wonder CowPup

On Easter Sunday, our adopted daughter and her mommy brought our baby goddaughter Ada to see us.  We had so much fun loving on them and hanging out with a ton of our friends for Easter.

Sweet Goddaughter!

ThatManILove and I have been busy campers this week.

Such is Mi Vida Loca, eh?

It’s never boring around here!

Hope y’all are all doing well.