This past weekend was probably the first taste this year many of us had with the hell that is holiday travel. This means taking the hell that is normally associated with traveling and tossing obnoxious Christmas songs into the mix.
I know all of you are asking yourselves, "What can I do to alleviate this stress?" So, I've decided to dedicate my last column to doling out enlightening advice about just how to cope with this torture.
The first person you usually encounter at the airport is the smiling face of the check-in counter clerk. This person is cheerful to overcompensate for what they already know will be a long wait with little to no customer service.
Once you've checked your bag, you'll meet the security checkpoint staff, who will be unnecessarily condescending at the moment that you are the most flustered and your feet are at their most vulnerable. The best thing is to do exactly what they ask, and then vent later. No one wants to suffer the repercussions of mouthing off to an airport employee - especially in this day and age. (Cough! U.S. Airways.)
The next hurdle? Flight attendants. They're smiling on the outside, so you may be tempted to draw a parallel between this smile and that of the check-in clerk, mistaking it as something genuine - or at least the closest thing to genuine an airport employee can give. Be careful. This smile does not say, "Hi! How are you? I like you and I'm here to make your trip more comfortable!"
Instead, it's that scary smile that says, "If you ask me for anything, and I mean anything, I will make sure that the beverage cart hits your elbow on its way down the aisle and that you don't get any peanuts. You hear me? No peanuts." Scary.
Now, I've tried being overly nice -- I mean saccharine sweet - and that has gotten me nowhere. I say, give them a taste of their own medicine: ask for everything. The call button is your friend.
Once you land you may or may not have to deal with lost or damaged baggage, but chances are the next nightmare you'll be dealing with is the quiet and subtle (or loud and blatant) psychosis of your family. It doesn't really matter which type you find yourself facing; they're both equally grating. The only answer I have for this is eggnog. Lots and lots of eggnog.
Happy holidays and hang in there.
P.S.:
You won't have Lisa to kick around any more because, dear readers, this is my last column. This has certainly been a challenging column for me to write, and I received my first real helping of hate mail thanks to many of you - and I really do mean thanks.
I was beleaguered and discouraged (Just ask my editor.) But in the end I learned a lot about myself and what it means to be a writer.
I thank all of you who sent me letters of malcontent (and the few dear souls that sent me letters of praise). While I will be forever indebted to those letters of criticism, I can't
help but attempt to have the last word (or at least, let Dale Carnegie have it):
"Any fool can criticize, condemn and complain, and most fools do." -- Dale Carnegie
Lisa
This is Lisa Przystup's last ever advice column. She is graduating from ASU and moving on to bigger and better things. So, if you think you're qualified to dole out advice or just get a kick out of sticking your nose into other people's business, please e-mail: stephanie.m.berger@asu.edu.
