Maine in winter sucks. This is my conclusion after a ten-day stint at home with no running water (frozen) desperately trying to satisfy the gnomes at the DMV that our paperwork was in order and that everything was legit. Took expensive days of sending forms back and forth via Fedex while I essentially counted the snowflakes in each exhalation at home, only to return the next day to discover a new requirement had popped up. To add more insults to the injuries administered my psyche by the good women at the counters and booths of my home away from home this trip, the elves and fairies at Delta Airlines decided it was going to cost five times the original cost of the round-trip ticket to change my reservation from last Saturday morning to this past Tuesday morning. "
"No way, Joselina. Just a cotton-picking minute," I blurted. She looked at me over her reading glasses, perched fetchingly on the wart at the end of her nose. Or was it a cold sore?
"Is there a problem, Sir?"
"Impending insolvency is the problem, m'dear. There's no way in Hell I can pay over a grand to change the date to a later one when the ticket only cost one fifth that amount in the first place. Please get me your supervisor."
After disappearing in back for a bit, the clerk returns with an older woman (my age) who asks me what the problem is? After explaining events that led to this point, I suggested she provide me with an override. She started to object when I asked her to punch in a 10 digit code. It was like night and day. All pretense at difficulties or non-cooperation was gone...
What really happened was I had to spend another 20 minutes arguing to get them to find me the lowest bump code fare possible. Which is how I found myself flying back to Louisiana on puddle jumpers on Valentine's day.
And that was where I left this entry - it was never finished. I'm not going to polish it up now, but thought you'd enjoy reading it.
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