Tuesday, August 23, 2011

Skipping the line

I hate waiting in line. I know what you're thinking; "Everyone hates waiting in line" you say in an incredibly raspy and poor voice. Let me be more clear. I REALLY hate waiting in line. Even if I am second in line. I can't stand it. It burns me at my core. It fires up irritating existential arguments in my ultrabrain™about humanity and lemmings and choice and free will and LINES. So I skip them when I can. I like going to an orphanage during lunch time and punching the first kid in line for porridge while the server isn't looking, and then taking his or her meal. Doing this makes me feel better. It somehow negates the lines I do have to wait in.

And by the way, its wait IN line. Not wait ON line. Whenever I hear a dim east-coaster say "I'm going to go wait on line" I immediately assume they mean that they're going to fire up AOL, dial in, and join a chat room or something. LEARN IT NOW, ITS WAIT IN LINE.

You learned up good now?

So, I mentioned earlier something about how I hate to wait in line. Well, this is why I love Hertz Gold Club. When I got to SFO after my flight from IAD, I just wanted to get into my rental car and go. Unfortunately, SFO makes you take an absurdly slow and confusing skytrain that takes no less than 443625 minutes to get to the rental car facility that sits north of the actual airport. Once you finally get there (its annoyingly the last stop on the air train) you enter a giant complex filled with my least favorite thing: LINES. Every rental car company has a giant counter with giant lines.

Well guess what.


I skip the lines. I head straight down to the first floor where I see an electronic board indicating where my special car is. I say special because Hertz has gotten into a habit of upgrading my car to whatever the hell they feel like. I usually rent a regular sized car, so that I can fit luggage or extra passengers. But Hertz doesn't care about that. I'm Gold Five Star which means I have to be upgraded if there is a better car available. What is really interesting is that a "better car" sometimes means a much much bigger one, and sometimes means a much much smaller one. Since we had this giant 57lbs bag, and an extra passenger (I picked my mom up at the airport who happened to be flying in at the same time), I was worried that whatever car Hertz gave me would be too small. BUT AT LEAST I DIDN'T HAVE TO WAIT IN LINE. So I found my stall, and noted that my name appeared on a screen right above my car.

How nice. Thankfully, the car they gave me was a big minivan/suv crossover type. Bags fit easily, moms fit easily, wives fit easily, and giant ULTRAJEWS™ fit easily.

The trip went well until I tried to return the car. Stay tuned next time for the thrilling account of how Hertz took a jab at me and I countered with some unexpected and particularly excellent businesskarate™.


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