Platinum

With Prim hard at work, I've taken over the blog for the time being.  As many of you know, I spend the better part of my life in an airport, on a plane or in a hotel. I have been fortunate enough to travel to exotic places such as Huntington, West Virginia and Lubbock, Texas. The free nights, the free flights and the free cars are all perks to life on the road. However, in all of my travels, I have maintained one common theme: an obsession with getting as high of a status on as many hotel chains, airlines and rental cars as I can. My favorite status is of course: Platinum.

Although Platinum status is not extremely rare amongst frequent flyers/travelers, I have managed to convince myself that I am somehow better than the average joe that lays their head down at various resorts. I admit it isn’t the most logical argument that I have conjured up in my head, but who cares. Another bi-product is that I can say extremely obnoxious things and people typically yield to my requests. Such as:

·      Do you know how many nights I stayed at your resort last year?

·      You realize this type of treatment wouldn’t happen at the Ritz Carlton?

o   A successful attempt to get parking fees waived after a string of bad service calls by the Crown Plaza in New Orleans.

·      I am not here to go to the aquarium or World of Coke.

o   Another successful attempt to get the Marriott in Atlanta to contain the level of noise a church group of 500+ was making at night.

·      That’s ok. I will just call the platinum line.

o   Another successful attempt to get a reservation at the Courtyard in Lubbock, Texas. The front desk clerk said that they were booked solid for the entire month of May. (Platinum status has a 24-hour room guarantee, so my room probably pushed some soccer mom out of a room. Hateful, isn’t it?)

Now, let’s take a refreshing look at the anti-platinum status member of my family.  The week before Christmas, Prim and I went to NYC with our good friend Ali. After checking in our bags, I instructed Prim to follow me through JFK’s priority security line because there were well over 75 people waiting in the regular line. As I walk through the ropes and bypass all of the people waiting, I turn around to see sweet Prim standing in the regular line. She said that it didn’t feel right to cut all of these people since she didn’t have priority status. While I was dragging her through the priority line, she was trying to greet each person waiting with a wave and a few apologetic words. Apparently, we are very, very different.

Shout out to my girl Swatels: Happy 21^st Birthday!! Enjoy your first “legal” drink at Satterfields. 

P.S.  Like in the line at JFK, Prim apologizes to anyone offended by this post.