Ok, by now you are wondering what prompted yesterday’s little travel missive. The husband went on a business trip to Orlando this Saturday to attend a software certification conference. As I expected, 25 minutes before a car is to arrive and take him to the airport, he is deciding what to pack. And yes, I did throw out his favorite suitcase. Never mind that it was over 20 years old and the hinges were rusting into the clothing compartment, that was his FAVORITE, dammit, and I was just being mean to discard it. I do that a lot. Just ask about the t-shirt with the Japanese writing on it…
He asks if I can pack him a toiletry bag. Oh, sure. Glad to help. Do you want me to pack clothes too? No! I respect your opinion and want input, but I want to select the clothes myself, he says. Um, ok. I’ll stand way over here and just shout suggestions. Be sure to pack both my electric razor and straight razor with shaving cream. He’s a blonde with no stubble problems, why the over kill? Whatever. Pack toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, aspirin, sunscreen, antacid, floss, q-tips, etc. Select a nice paperback book to read in the airport and pack a little snack baggie with nuts, gum and dried fruit. I joke that he will call me from the hotel to ask if I packed a certain item.
Inquire if he has written down flight numbers and times for me just in case. Get look as if I am speaking Esperanto. Never mind. If I hear of any plane crashes, I’ll just file a claim and let the airline shoulder the burden of proving otherwise. Oh, you’re taking United? Best of luck to you. If the company blew my pension plan, I might just loosen up the left wing myself.
He’s not sure what to bring. The conference brochure said Dress: Casual, comfortable clothes.
Now for any normal human being, that shouldn’t be a problem. But if there is one sartorially-challenged group that needs far more than a single sentence telling them how to dress, it’s Computer Geeks. A better marketing company would have known that far more guidance is needed for this group, and it wouldn’t hurt if you could speak their language…
He asks if I can pack him a toiletry bag. Oh, sure. Glad to help. Do you want me to pack clothes too? No! I respect your opinion and want input, but I want to select the clothes myself, he says. Um, ok. I’ll stand way over here and just shout suggestions. Be sure to pack both my electric razor and straight razor with shaving cream. He’s a blonde with no stubble problems, why the over kill? Whatever. Pack toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, aspirin, sunscreen, antacid, floss, q-tips, etc. Select a nice paperback book to read in the airport and pack a little snack baggie with nuts, gum and dried fruit. I joke that he will call me from the hotel to ask if I packed a certain item.
Inquire if he has written down flight numbers and times for me just in case. Get look as if I am speaking Esperanto. Never mind. If I hear of any plane crashes, I’ll just file a claim and let the airline shoulder the burden of proving otherwise. Oh, you’re taking United? Best of luck to you. If the company blew my pension plan, I might just loosen up the left wing myself.
He’s not sure what to bring. The conference brochure said Dress: Casual, comfortable clothes.
Now for any normal human being, that shouldn’t be a problem. But if there is one sartorially-challenged group that needs far more than a single sentence telling them how to dress, it’s Computer Geeks. A better marketing company would have known that far more guidance is needed for this group, and it wouldn’t hurt if you could speak their language…
If (year your pants were in style ≥ age of t-shirt) then Pocket Protector is Optional
Plaids are not a subset of [things that go with stripes]
Full Dress-Battle Klingon wear discouraged, but ladies may pick up their free Lt. Uhura costume at the sign-in desk!
I suggest that he should speak to his carpool buddy who goes on lots of business trips. Perhaps he would have suggestions of what to pack from past experiences. No, he snarls. Why not? His wife does all the packing for him. Ah. I suggest a pair of jeans, a pair of khaki pants, and three pairs of shorts. He says it’s for six days, he needs more. (I have yet to see a man point and say: Hey, he wore those tan pants yesterday! Does he really think that belt goes with those pants?) Whatever.
He’s done stuffing 3 pairs of shoes, two dress pants, shorts, socks, more underwear than I suspected he owned and about a dozen shirts into a check luggage and carry-on. “Did you get the stuff from the kitchen?” I ask. What stuff? “You know, the kitchen sink…”
He called me tonight. Said he did not sleep well last night; had indigestion. “I packed antacids”, I point out. Oh. I didn’t really look. I said I wouldn’t call about that…
Tells me they took the certification test already, but he won’t know the results for two weeks. “Two weeks!”, I exclaim. “Do you have the instructor’s home address so you can call and argue over the ones they marked wrong? It was true-false, right, and some of them were neither, right?” Do I know him or what??
Well, that’s all for now. I’ll try to change the topic for tomorrow. Lucas has a new film out, which should be good for a couple hundred words….
Plaids are not a subset of [things that go with stripes]
Full Dress-Battle Klingon wear discouraged, but ladies may pick up their free Lt. Uhura costume at the sign-in desk!
I suggest that he should speak to his carpool buddy who goes on lots of business trips. Perhaps he would have suggestions of what to pack from past experiences. No, he snarls. Why not? His wife does all the packing for him. Ah. I suggest a pair of jeans, a pair of khaki pants, and three pairs of shorts. He says it’s for six days, he needs more. (I have yet to see a man point and say: Hey, he wore those tan pants yesterday! Does he really think that belt goes with those pants?) Whatever.
He’s done stuffing 3 pairs of shoes, two dress pants, shorts, socks, more underwear than I suspected he owned and about a dozen shirts into a check luggage and carry-on. “Did you get the stuff from the kitchen?” I ask. What stuff? “You know, the kitchen sink…”
He called me tonight. Said he did not sleep well last night; had indigestion. “I packed antacids”, I point out. Oh. I didn’t really look. I said I wouldn’t call about that…
Tells me they took the certification test already, but he won’t know the results for two weeks. “Two weeks!”, I exclaim. “Do you have the instructor’s home address so you can call and argue over the ones they marked wrong? It was true-false, right, and some of them were neither, right?” Do I know him or what??
Well, that’s all for now. I’ll try to change the topic for tomorrow. Lucas has a new film out, which should be good for a couple hundred words….
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