(After Surviving 130,000 Calls from the Traveling Public) by Jonathan Lee -- The Washington Post
I work in a central reservation office of an airline. After more than 130,000 conversations -- all ending with "Have a nice day and thanks for calling" -- I think it's fair to say that I'm a survivor.
I've made it through all the calls from adults who didn't know the difference between a.m. and p.m., from mothers of military recruits who didn't trust their little soldiers to get it right, from the woman who called to get advice on how to handle her teenage daughter, from the man who wanted to ride inside the kennel with his dog so he wouldn't have to pay for a seat, from the woman who wanted to know why she had to change clothes on our flight between Chicago and Washington (she was told she'd have to make a change between the two cities) and from the man who asked if I'd like to discuss the existential humanism that emanates from the soul of Habeeb.
In five years, I've received more than a boot camp education regarding the astonishing lack of awareness of our American citizenry. This lack of awareness encompasses every region of the country, economic status, ethnic background, and level of education. My battles have included everything from a man not knowing how to spell the name of the town he was from, to another not recognizing the name of "Iowa" as being a state, to another who thought he had to apply for a foreign passport to fly to West Virginia. They are the enemy and they are everywhere.
In the history of the world there has never been as much communication and new things to learn as today. Yet, after I asked a woman from New York what city she wanted to go to in Arizona, she asked, "Oh... is it a big place?"
I talked to a woman in Denver who had never heard of Cincinnati, a man in Minneapolis who didn't know there was more than one city in the South ("wherever the South is"), a woman in Nashville who asked, "Instead of paying for your ticket, can I just donate the money to the National Cancer Society?", and a man in Dallas who tried to pay for his ticket by sticking quarters in the pay phone he was calling from.
I knew a full invasion was on the way when, shortly after signing on, a man asked if we flew to exit 35 on the New Jersey Turnpike. Then a woman asked if we flew to area code 304. And I knew I had been shipped off to the front when I was asked, "When an airplane comes in, does that mean it's arriving or departing?"
I remembered the strict training we had received -- four weeks of regimented classes on airline codes, computer technology, and telephone behavior -- and it allowed for no means of retaliation. "Troops," we were told, "it's real hell out there and ya got no defense. You're going to hear things so silly you can't even make 'em up. You'll try to explain things to your friends that you don't even believe yourself, and just when you think you've heard it all, someone will ask if they can get a free round-trip ticket to Europe by reciting 'Mary Had a Little Lamb.'"
Well, Sarge was right. It wasn't long before I suffered a direct hit from a woman who wanted to fly to Hippopotamus, NY. After I assured her that there was no such city, she became irate and said it was a big city with a big airport. I asked if Hippopotamus was near Albany or Syracuse. It wasn't. Then I asked if it was near Buffalo. "Buffalo!" she said. "I knew it was a big animal!"
Then I crawled out of my bunker long enough to be confronted by a man who tried to catch our flight in Maconga. I told him I'd never heard of Maconga and we certainly didn't fly to it. But he insisted we did and to prove it he showed me his ticket: Macon, GA. I've done nothing during my conversational confrontations to indicate that I couldn't understand English. But after quoting the round-trip fare the passenger just asked for he'll always ask: "...Is that round trip?" After quoting the one-way fare the passenger just asked for he'll always, always ask: "...Is that one-way?" I never understood why they always question if what I just gave them is what they just asked for. Then I realized it was part of the hell Sarge told us about.
But I've survived to direct the lost, correct the wrong, comfort the wary, teach U.S. geography and give tutoring in the spelling and pronunciation of American cities. I have been told things like: "I can't go stand-by for your flight because I'm in a wheelchair." I've been asked such questions as: "I have a connecting flight to Knoxville. Does that mean the plane sticks to something?" And once a man wanted to go to Illinois. When I asked what city he wanted to go to in Illinois, he said, "Cleveland, Ohio."
After 130,000 little wars of varying degrees, I'm a wise old veteran of the communication conflict and can anticipate with accuracy what the next move by "them" will be. Seventy-five percent won't have anything to write on. Half will not have thought about when they're returning. A third won't know where they're going; 10 percent won't care where they're going. A few won't care if they get back. And James will be the first name of half the men who call.
But even if James doesn't care if he gets to the city he never heard of; even if he thinks he has to change clothes on our plane that may stick to something; even if he can't spell, pronounce, or remember what city he's returning to, he'll get there because I've worked very hard to make sure that he can. Then with a click in the phone, he'll become a part of my past and I'll be hoping the next caller at least knows what day it is.
You’re my piece of mind, in this crazy world You’re every thing I've tried to find Your love is a pearl You’re my Mona Lisa You’re my rainbow skies And my only prayer is that you realize You'll always be beautiful in my eyes...
The world will turn And the seasons will change And all the lessons we will learn Will be beautiful and strange We'll have our fell of tears Our share of sight My only prayer is that you realize You'll always be beautiful in my eyes...
You will always be beautiful in my eyes And the passing years will show That you will always grow Ever more beautiful in my eyes
And there are lines upon my face From a life time of smiles When the time comes to embrace For one long last wine We can laugh about how time really flies We won’t say goodbye ‘Cause true love never dies You'll always be beautiful in my eyes...
You will always be beautiful in my eyes And The passing years will show That you will always grow Ever more beautiful in my eyes
The passing years will show That you will always grow Ever more beautiful in my eyes...
he’s the one you call when you need an instant date to your next company party. She’s the first person you can think of calling when you just had a fight with “the girl”. She willingly gives you the “woman’s perspective” on anything without getting all emotional and sentimental about every single thing. You love hanging out with her because, she’s funny, she’s quirky and for the meantime, she’s not interested in relationships which makes it perfect for you (she’ll joke about your “player” reputation instead of frowning about it). You love calling her because she doesn’t get into fights with you about why you didn’t call earlier or anything trivial like the way you dress, or why you put too much gel on your hair. You never have to try hard to look nice when you come and see her. Although she is not afraid to make fun of you and tell you how stupid you look with your new highlights. You never have to open doors for her or douse yourself with perfume because you know for sure, she will make fun of you. There’s no awkward silence in your conversations and you never have to worry about making stupid jokes just to fill the silence because you know, she will make you feel silly about your corny jokes.
Your relationship with the meantime girl is based more on silliness, wise cracks, insults and occasional flirting. You know she will make fun of you when tell her details of your rendezvous with “the girl” but you tell her anyway because it’s so much fun when you can laugh at something that seemed absurd at the time without bruising your ego. Plus, the stories become really funny anecdotes you can actually retell over and over again. It works both ways because she will tell you details of her dates with her exes and you crack each other up simply because her stories make you feel less of an idiot afterwards.
She’s actually quite a challenge to be friends with if not for her very engaging sense of humor. She can come up with a million definitions for “moron” and “idiot” and she’s not afraid to use them on you. She’s brutally honest and she hits you more times than you care to count. She will suggest books for you to read but expect that she will mess up the ending of books you haven’t read or even movies or TV shows you haven’t seen. She has PMS almost constantly and will insult you at every opportunity. She eats as much as you do and actually finishes her food when you eat out. She takes advantage of the fact that you can legally drive and with all the free dating tips she gives you, you feel obliged to be her personal chauffeur.
And of course, beyond her i-don’t-need-a-man exterior, she has that peculiar, almost adorable way of making you feel that what you say or do actually matters. You have mastered the art of taking note of every single little thing because she taught you that girls get gaga over these “little” things. She will help you pick out the perfect gift for “the one”. You now know the value of compliment even if it’s the simplest thing you can possibly come up with. And she made it easier to understand why girls can never have enough bags or shoes or lip gloss. Or why girls get so irritated at certain times of the month.
Your relationship with the meantime girl is perfect simply because you never have to try too hard to make it work – no emotional melodramas, no complex relationship stuff that always makes you go crazy. At the same time, she has the sensitivity of a real best friend in a way that she can read you that most of the guys you’ve ever hang out with. She can tell almost instantly when you’re feeling bad about something and offer you a quick trip to the nearest coffee place so you can talk about emotional stuff without feeling like an idiot (strangely enough, these talks don’t feel as strangulating as when you have the “real talk” with the “real” girl). She is always available when you need to talk or to hang out with anyone else who can talk about anything other than basketball. And it’s almost amazing that you’ve never actually pictured her to take the place of “the girl” even when you can almost swear you two have had your “moments”. Of which, you can remember her giving you the don’t-you-dare-fall-in-love-with-me look that she seemed to have perfected over the years.
Admit it. Being with the meantime girl makes you think of being with “the one”; especially, because there’s something about her that you can’t seem to get enough of. The truth is, she is more attractive and smarter than most of the girls you’ve ever gone out with. You have been a witness of how she grew into this beautiful woman anyone would be crazy not to spend forever with. You’ve had moments when you try to convince yourself to think of her as the girl friend, the alternative to your guy friends, and not as a “real” woman who can take the place of “the girl”. And though in moments of heightened loneliness, you sometimes think of the possibility of something happening between you and the meantime girl but you are too scared to tell her how you feel. What you feel for her is something so difficult to define that it wouldn’t be fair to consider possibilities of anything romantic happening between the two of you. Plus, the fact that you know more about her personal life, i.e. her past dating experiences than any other guy, makes you feel that going beyond friendship would mean betraying her trust.
So instead, meantime boy, you prefer to keep quiet and enjoy the company of the meantime girl. It’s comforting because it’s safe. There are no expectations to take things to the next level. No pressure. No real worries. Plus, being with her has tested all your capabilities to be with “the one”. And when that time comes, you know that all the conflicting emotions you have for the meantime girl would dissolve. Though in the back of your mind, you hope that this “meantime-ness” would remain and that your meantime girl wouldn’t rush to be someone else’s forever. You’d hope she’ll be by your side to pick you up in case you fall down again. Really, there is no reason to doubt the value of her existence. You have reason to hope for the best in your future relationships. After all, you’ve had years and years of practice.
She's the one you call when you're bored because she makes you laugh.She's the one you talk to when you're feeling down because she's willing to lend an ear and be a friend.She's not the one you call when you need a date to a party, or to go out with on a Saturday night.She's the one you spend time with between girlfriends, before you find "The One."
You know, she's the one who you keep around in the meantime. She's not the one of the guys, not a tomboy, but you don't look at her as a "real" woma, either. She's not bitch enough, moody enough, or sexy enough to be seen in that light. She's too laid-back, too easily amused by the same things your male buddies are amused by.
She's too understanding, too comfortable - she does'nt make you feel nervous or excited the way a "real" woman does but she's cool, and nice, and funny, and attractive enough that when you're lonely or horny and need intimate female companionship, she'll do just fine.You don't have to wine and dine her because she knows the real you already, and you don't have any facades to keep up, no pretenses to preserve.
You're not trying to get anything of substance out of her. She's not easy, but you know that she cares about you and is attracted to you, and that she'll give you the intimacy you need. And you know you don't have to explain yourself or the situation, that she'll be able to cope with the fact that thisisn't the beginning of a relationship or that ther's any possibility that you have any real romantic feelings for her. It won't bother her that you'll get up in the morning, put on your pants, say goodbye, and go on a date with the woman you've been mooning over for weeks who finally agreed to go out with you.
She settle for a goodbye hug and a promise to call her and tell her how the date went.
She's just so cool.
Why can't all women be like that?
But deep down, if you really think about it (which you probably don't because to you, the situation between the two of you isn't important enough to mert any real thought), you know that it's really not fair. You know that although she would never say it, it hurts her to know that despite all her good points and all the fun you two have, you don't think she's good enough to spend any real time with.
Sure, it's mostly her fault, because she does'nt have to give in to your needs - she could play it hard-to-get bitch like the rest of them do, if she really wanted to. But you and she both know that she probably could'nt pull it off. Maybe she's too short, or a little overweight, or has a big birthmark on her forehead. Whatever the reason, somehow life has given her a lot of really great qualities but has left out the ones that men want (or think they want) in a woman.
So she remains forever the funny friend, the steadfast companion, the secret lover, and you go on searching for your goddess who will somehow be evrything you ever wanted in a woman. She does'nt captivate you with her, or open doors with her smile. Mainly she blends in with the crowd. She's safe. She doesn't want to be the center of attention and turn the heads of everyone in the room. But she wants to turn someone's head. She wants to be special to someone, too. (we all do). She has feelings. She has a heart. In fact, she probably has a bigger and better heart than any woman you've ever known because she's had a front-row seat to "The Mess That Is Your Life," and she likes you anyway. She obviously sees something worthwhile and redeeming in you because although you've given her nothing,absolutely no reason to still be around but she still is.
Anyway, yeah. I'm a Meantime Girl. Been one more times than I care to admit. I don't know the reason, really, and at this point I don't even care. I just want to let every guy know who's ever had the good fortune to have a Meantime Girl that we may be a lot of fun, but we cry, too. A lot. And someday we won't be around.
he’s the one you call when you need an instant date to your next company party. She’s the first person you can think of calling when you just had a fight with “the girl”. She willingly gives you the “woman’s perspective” on anything without getting all emotional and sentimental about every single thing. You love hanging out with her because, she’s funny, she’s quirky and for the meantime, she’s not interested in relationships which makes it perfect for you (she’ll joke about your “player” reputation instead of frowning about it). You love calling her because she doesn’t get into fights with you about why you didn’t call earlier or anything trivial like the way you dress, or why you put too much gel on your hair. You never have to try hard to look nice when you come and see her. Although she is not afraid to make fun of you and tell you how stupid you look with your new highlights. You never have to open doors for her or douse yourself with perfume because you know for sure, she will make fun of you. There’s no awkward silence in your conversations and you never have to worry about making stupid jokes just to fill the silence because you know, she will make you feel silly about your corny jokes.
