Category: Travel

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Startups Travel

Day 1877 and Driving Miss Julie

When Uber first hit San Francisco, most of the hype in my circles was that it was finally possible to go out at night like New Yorkers always had. In Manhattan hailing a cab was simple. One was always going by.

San Francisco was neither so dense nor so populous, so maybe you got lucky; but mostly you called cab companies and waited outside of parties for for ages just to be sure someone wouldn’t steal your ride.

Talking to your taxi driver was more interesting in New York. It was the quintessential immigrants job where one worked their way up to a taxi medallion. Different neighborhoods had different demographics. You’d learn a lot about the American dream.

Now that ride sharing and piece work contracting applications are entrenched in our social fabric, the relationship between customer and provider is entirely different.

Using an interface that cuts down interaction is a big part of the appeal. Maybe no one wants to hear about hopes and dreams anymore.

Except that I do. I am one of those chatty Cathy types who wants to let the conversation roam. Uber and Lyft drivers (and whatever other delivery services they may also pick up) tend to be intermittent workers looking to patch up the cracks in the drivers budget or circumstances.

I’ve had a number of veterans (as in military not as in experienced drivers) on my recent trip. This is also a typical demographic in Montana where it’s either former military or college kids looking for extra money.

Times rally must be changing as I’ve not had a prototypical immigrant driver in America for some time now. It’s largely white native born men looking to make ends meet.

New York probably still has that old school style of driver but working class Americans of all stripes are now thoroughly integrated into application intermediary work flows.

Odd jobs used to be paid in cash and maybe some didn’t get reported. Now you’ve got 1099 income from every piece work source of income imaginable. No one is all that reasonable to anyone else.

The companies are just the layer between customer and provider. I’m sure the governments must love this (despite protests to the contrary) as it makes it very easy to collect the taxes.

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Travel

Day 1875 and Between Heaven and Hell

I had a stupid day. Maybe things have been simmering for a bit and a blow up was to be expected. I hit a limit for humiliation and simply didn’t want to keep paying for that kind of treatment. I did not consent.

I’m doing some business in California and am paying an exorbitant fee for the privilege. And I will eat a lot of shit to do the work I love, but I will not pay to be insulted at a premium price point. A Best Western is good enough for me.

This is going to be a ramble as I am so irritated by it as it felt like every single aspect of the hotel did not function. Their bumbling ineptitude would make a Motel 6 blush, let alone a supposedly upper market hotel.

Alas, somewhere between a maid barging in on me naked and the fourth or filth time a staff member knocked on the door confused about the status of my reservation I snapped. I wanted out of my reservation which is spent hours trying to sort.

If they didn’t want to do their jobs, offer me privacy or take my money, well then I didn’t need to be there. I wanted to be literally anywhere else.

I had a late checkout and half an hour before it hit so I went full Karen. I huffed and puffed and demanded a refund. I packed up, dazed and underfed from a busy morning and went to another less glamorous hotel. And it reads like a comedy of errors.

The hotel was charging prices equivalent to five star luxury hotels in other parts of the world and couldn’t deliver on so much as taking out the trash or keeping the changes in the reservation straight. The Keystone cops were better coordinated.

A kerfuffle had developed around extending the stay yesterday. At issue was that I didn’t have the authority to extend the reservation as it has been booked under my husband’s account and not mine.

Alright fine, but plans change and sometimes (often times) my husband and I have to change on short notice. It wasn’t even as if there were amenities on offer that he was entitled to on his account versus mine. I want being sneaky.

There was no breakfast to abuse. No special amenities for the status guests. Hell there wasn’t even a pair of slippers. But somehow it became a thing. Multiple calls to the manager, confirmation details being emailed around and trips to the front desk did not fix the problem.

The front desk manager acted like she was doing me a favor by letting me pay $300 bucks to extend the stay as “she’s really not supposed to do this!” You see I didn’t book the reservation myself.

This bizarre “account owner” issue is now a regular issue for both Marriot and Hyatt owned hotels. And if they didn’t want to take my money I didn’t feel at all bad about losing my cool and walking out.

The chains simply cannot seem to provide hospitality if it is outside of their parameters and their staff is not enabled to do much of anything beyond try to calm you down while never delivering on what you paid. If you happen to have a change of plans then being the wrong spouse counts against you in their dance of protocal.

I was annoyed but alright I’ll let inconvenience him and have Alex change it and move on. I won’t try to shock them by saying m that married couples commingle many things like airline status, Costco accounts and hotel loyalty programs. You’d be shocked at what other stuff we share. It’s almost like being married means sharing your life.

Today was meant to be the first day of the “new” reservation but despite being charged for it, not a single member of the hotel staff could figure it out. I went down multiple times to change keycards and put down deposits and all kinds of rigamoral.

Because I’d been so jet lagged yesterday I didn’t get any housekeeping service nor had I done much beyond work at the desk. So once I thought the extended reservation was sorted I went to visit a sort of luxury concept mall of the likes that combines Dior and Cartier with a billion other amenities from movie theaters and fine dining with staples like a Sephora. I told the hotel I’d give them time to clean as I was going to pick up a few things.

I return three hours later to the room not being cleaned. I am irked but find I call and ask if they can send housekeeping. “Oh we thought you were checking out?!” My response was “well a cleaning woman came in around 10am without knocking while I was naked.” I was wrong to presume that she would come back despite my AI assisted explainer translating my English to her Spanish. I thought she’d understood I was leaving and she could clean. How wrong I was.

“Oh no we have you listed as checking out at 2pm which is why we didn’t clean! Ok but then why did a maid come in earlier without so much as a knock? No explanation was offered.

This goes on for another half an hour as various people come to the room, none of whom communicated with anyone else on the staff.

A gentleman came knocking to ask when I’m checking out (I am not see this is the reservation). Another came to see when I wanted them to clean (two hours ago but now is fine) and then finally on the fourth person to try to sort it out if I had a reservation (look at the barcode I beg you!) I got angry enough that they let me cancel the reservation. They seemed totally flummoxed by my upset.

Somewhere around “just send up a vacuum I’ll clean myself” and “it’s against union policies to let the guests use the cleaning equipment” we’d clearly reached an impasse on what I needed and what they would do (nothing) and they wanted me gone as much as I wanted to be gone.

I know all of this is stupid and very petty, but we’ve reached a point in many industries where everyone is paying out their noses for services meant to be delivered in an expected manner and almost never are. And the prices only ever go up. if I had ever behaved in the manner that they did when I was managing a marketing agency for a luxury hotel in New York I would’ve promptly been fired.

I didn’t need to be insulted about not being my husband. I didn’t need to work my schedule around their cleaning staff or their front desk scheduling snafus or their various corporate policies on who is allowed to book what and when. 

I want to pay a fair price to stay somewhere I can get my work done and have the basics. Hospitality is about being hospitable. And somewhere between the armed guard at the mall and the baffled maid it just hit me that this heaven and hell interplay is all we can expect from here on out. You either pay a fortune or are lucky for what you can get.

It’s not even premium mediocre now. It’s just shitty. And only Karens stand between us and the total devolution of standards for fair exchanges of goods and services. And unfortunately that means I must don the armor of the Karen and hold my line. I refuse to cut my hair and get highlights though. I’ve had enough humiliation for one day.

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Travel

Day 1874 and Delayed Jet Lag

When you travel as much as I do, you get pretty good at managing the logistics of it. It’s a common theme on the blog as I relish being competent at travel but I also have complicated emotional baggage about its necessity.

Still I would relish a competitive packing game. I think a game show akin to Supermarket Sweeps but with managing a multi-leg transcontinental commercial flight would be great television.

Alas the fun and games stop where your body begins. And your body is never quite as capable as you might wish. Being evolved for living by circadian rhythms means jet lag is just a gnarly feeling no matter the tactics you use to combat it.

Yesterday was taken up by a work victory lap which kept my cortisol pumping and my energy up. Today however I can feel the jet lag hitting like a brick. I’ve been trying all day to work up the energy for basic tasks and losing. Tomorrow is another day.

Good thing private taxis for burritos exist as I might have simply chosen to fast for lack of energy to make or even acquire food. Though fasting wouldn’t have been a bad way to spend this clustering of holidays. It’s Shrove Tuesday, Lunar New Year and Ramadan. Much of humanity will be in joy and prayer today so that out to help lift anyone’s spirits.

Categories
Aesthetics Culture Travel

Day 1872 and ‘bout to take my lady to Selfridges

Ahhh how I missed London. I miss it in the same way I miss Hong Kong and even Frankfurt. So many cities are no longer places for Americans. I need nowhere else to go mind you, my edge of the American empire will be flooded soon enough, it’s just that I miss being welcomed.

It’s just I’d gotten used to the freedom of our constitutional rights seemingly applying everywhere. Team America was an ok joke by true sons of the mountain west libertarian in South Park’s Matt and Trey. Now it seems like a drop out attitude of Gen X. I am still on Team America.

The end of the liberal world order, much ballyhooed by the WEF set, has me getting prepared to be seen as the enemy. It is even time to get used to being called fascists. I’m sure Nazi won’t be far off as the Germans must always take everything too far. Ironic no?

I fear if I don’t prepare to be truly sovereign, I may face a day as a refuge in the future if Americans can’t pull off its renaissance. Though I work hard toward that end.

I’ve done what I can to invest in the young entrepreneurs of the new era, and in the great state of Montana in particular, but victory is more article of faith than assured outcome.

The Munich Security Conference is, as it ever was, a flurry of events but now Marco Rubio is singing a love song to our birth continent. As if papering over the past year of slights and jabs is enough but it is the best a neoconservative in disguise can manage.

And so I had a layover in Heathrow and I saw the flavors of what is to come. And somehow that Prada song was on repeat everywhere I went.

London is still for the globalists, even if you are not a member of what William Gibson called the klept. As in kleptocracy. The Jackpot is here.

Reindustrialize they say, but look what happened to British Empire. The sun never sets? The sun barely rises on it now, and we’ve lost them to the unforeseen consequences of the generational contractual breach.

Add in the inflows of the commonwealth deciding the island will always be a destination for the 1% and London is a pricy place.

And so I think should I go to Selfridges as the song says? The Duty Free shops that makes up Heathrow hasn’t made a deal with them but I’ve got all the luxury options and high streeet choices at my disposal.

I was once deep in the world of travel retail and I bet you can guess who owns the biggest player in Heathrow. No not Arnault. It is, as you might expect, a competing regional power who certainly wishes non-doms weren’t facing wealth taxes in London. They are good to do business with incidentally.

And so I hear, over and over again, past seasons hits and remixes and think London might be the virtual world of Malthusian post Jackpot imaginings of the Cyperpunk progenitor. And we shall compete for clout and status in the same ways as always.

[Young Adz:]

Bout to take my lady Selfridges
New drip on the way, uh-huh
Rap nigga still sellin’ bricks
Half a cake on the way, uh-huh
Take a flight, she wanna take a Lyft
Phone the molly man, he’s on the way, uh-huh
I might take her The Shard, I might take her The Ritz
It don’t matter, baby, I’m straight, uh-huh

[RAYE:]
I feel like I’m in Prince’s house
Purple paint all on the walls, uh-huh
Sittin’ down on this fancy couch
And I can’t see straight, I’m a state, uh-huh
Twenty-two, I’m in Paris, baby
Got strippers tits in my face, uh-huh
Pull up in a Bentley, I want Christian, I want Fendi

I want Prada, ah-ah, ah-ah
Ooh-ooh, ooh-ooh-ooh
I already make that paper, I don’t need to chase no clout, wow
I don’t usually pipe up, but I don’t like how you runnin’ your mouth, wow
I already make that paper, I don’t need to chase no clout, wow

I already made that paper and I don’t need to chase no clout so now what?

I’m like George Clooney stuck in the liminal window of Heathrow for a brief moment. I am not of the country (I spent $22 to register myself with their visa mobile app as I sat in a purple corridor trying to input my biometric) so it feels all wrong.

I’m not exactly out of their control until I leave their airspace. But how much longer do any of these Anglophone countries have left?

I’m a dark Swede of dubious stock and many generations of me and mine adjusted to the Weberian Protestant work ethic. I don’t want Prada but I did enjoy working for them as a client.

Categories
Culture Travel

Day 1871 and Private Terminals

The downside of living in a world where everyone posts all their luxuries, is regular people who spend too much time on Instagram worrying about things that wouldn’t add much to their lives. Instagram breeds discontentment for everyone.

My husband grew up ten minutes from a global international airport hub, and as such has unrealistic expectations of how quickly one can get from place A to B and how many legs a trip should have.

He longs for the most efficient trips complete with special passes, lines and hopefully a plane dedicated to just his crew and their final destination. I doubt I’ll manage to buy it for him but if one of my better seed investments pans out I’d acquire a gulfstream for his buddies to fly.

I’ll admit I’ve been a little spoiled as well, as by the time my family could afford to fly more regularly the old Stapleton airport had been replaced by a global United hub in Denver International Airport. A spookier more haunted airport there has never been (mind the killer blue Mustang and Masonic symbolism) but it flys connections everywhere.

Now we are in the spokes and farther from hubs. Flying can be a challenge for me as in the past fewer people abused disability requests like wheelchairs.

My ankylosing spondylitis has good days and bad days so on occasion I wish I had help with heavy bags, long lines and lugging stuff around.

Wheelchair access has alas become just another scam people run to board first, so I can no longer guarantee that I’ll even make my airplane given the lines and lines of maybe crippled as if you log disabled you often can’t even get your boarding pass from a kiosk. You have doomed yourself to the thousand person line.

Alas become used to popping Advil, throwing elbows and working my way to the front of the line filled with folks who know little of flying etiquette, status boarding times and the rest. If I can’t beat back a Balkan auntie seated in the back of the plane for my own seat at 2C then what sort of world traveler am I? I claim space but I don’t like it.

Yet as I stomp around smaller spoke airports I’ve learned it’s not too expensive to get a priority pass to private terminals. Groan I know.

In a few spots, it’s less than fifty bucks to skip check in with your airline, avoid security and passport checks with the whole airport by doing it in these terminals and they will drive you in a van to board the airplane first.

That means no more fighting for prime position in line to get prime position to board to get prime position on the bus to race up the staircase to the airplane before someone else blocks you.

I can’t imagine a better use of the time and money frankly. I could easily have arrived much later but I wasn’t sure how easy it would or wouldn’t be.

The demographic feels a bit petty oligarch with a cigar lounge and exotic alcohol but I’m just happy I haven’t had to do any heavy lifting for the moment. My bags are handled. I have food and water.

Categories
Travel

Day 1870 and Cutting Down On Packing Time

I am a very thorough, well honed and time tested, and Karen hardened packing methodology.

I have a little bit of childhood anxiety around packing for having moved around a lot that has alas never left me. Many people having anxiety about flying so at least it is a bit relatable but I don’t know if packing anxiety is as common.

For me it’s not about being in the air but rather leaving behind an established base for parts unknown. Will I be able to find medicine for issue that arise or soap that won’t trigger eczema? What if I need to appear at an event requiring a dress & makeup? What if I need to walk for two miles with all those things?

Every time I pack I go through the same routine and I use the same bags with the same labeling system to manage all the permutations I might encounter. And it is a science.

I have a small pajama bag I carry in my backpack in case of an unexpected overnight or long delay. I carry small clear vanity case to clean & groom myself with full allergy protocols that passes even the crankiest Heathrow checkpoint. I am prepared.

I carry on my person a a small pill bag with every detail labeled that can handled medical incidents big and small along with my first responder certificate. If you have an issue on an airplane you want to be seated next to me.

From there in my carry on suitcase I label the packing cubes with every item I bring, from underwear to wrap dress and ballet flats. Everything that is packed in my larger Tumi that gets checked is also labeled and I place an itinerary on top as I find my bags opened more frequently than seems reasonable.

There are no questions from the TSA or the most belligerent customs agent that won’t be immediately cleared up with minor inspection. Now with artificial intelligence I can translate my labels on the fly into any language.

Despite this clarity and organization, I admit I’ve had a few amusing incidents. Once through Heathrow I unsettled a British Airways agent with my fiber and protein powder baggies. Because clearly middle aged woman would smuggle in a quart sized baggie of cocaine in her purse.

I really wish with all the travel I do and my very strict system that this would all somehow take a little bit less time than it does. I generally allow myself two days to pack as I like to check and double check as it’s an iron law that things will be forgotten. And Montana is remote enough that if I forget a fancy serum or a favored sweater I won’t get a replacement easily. We only just got a Sephora this year.

I am however headed for a large American city that has absolutely everything I could possibly want in short order. So as I leave behind a European home base where I do keep things on hand (I didn’t always but extended family has been kind to me) I feel much less pressure this time. And still somehow I will allow myself to let it take more time than I’d prefer.

Categories
Culture Travel

Day 1869 and Dumb Knuckleheads Driving Poorly

I’m surely not even the millionth person to make note of this phenomena, but drivers are getting worse and it’s very much the sorts of drivers you’d expect to be the culprits.

Let me tell you a humorous story about getting sideswiped not once but twice in less than week by ditzy women driving bottom of the barrel vehicles. Meanwhile I was in a decent sized higher end SUV which very much helped. Imagine the culprits driving a Golf or a Peugeot.

Now to preserve some privacy for all involved this did not happen in America but in Europe and the timing is being buffered. To protect the not at all innocent.

The first instance was (and I swear I’m not making this up) while I was helping a family member with the equivalent of a trip to the department of motor vehicles.

Turning into a parking space in their lot, a middle aged woman (who was not paying attention) backed out and scraped two feet down the right side of the vehicle. She stopped and gave the impression of us waiting to park. As soon as we settled she immediately scattered. So much for her stopping.

Fortunately a worker at the bureau saw it and knew that the driver was employed there which made sorting it feasible. She gave over her insurance and the paint easily buffed out the scratch. She didn’t act at all embarrassed for having clearly been caught.

Then forty eight hours later another near miss by a ditzy Zoomer got us. We were making a slow left turn to merge into a larger road. We’d already crossed the yellow line with just half the front of the car into the new lane. As one does when politely coming into a left turn.

Just as we began to accelerate into the lane having slowed traffic in then opposite lane, a cheap car continued barreling 20 over the speed limit without so much as an attempt to slow to let us finish the turn.

She clipped onto our bumper and tore into her own driver side door. It was not a pretty Boise. She attempted to keep going as every other witness on the city road tried to get her attention to stop her.

Finally some fifty feet later dhe slowed down once she realized she took damage and everyone was snapping pictures. We were able to call the police and exchange information.

In a final act of sneakiness, she tried to call a policeman that was in her family to plead her case. Him being nearby maybe she was thinking he’d help her out. Amusingly this backfired against her as it was pretty clear she was at fault and she accepted responsibility. She’d done more damage to her car than to ours.

It’s little wonder everyone is on edge about being on city roads as irresponsible drivers seem to be absolutely everywhere and rules of the road are mere suggestion. Don’t be a knucklehead is the moral of the story.

Categories
Aesthetics Travel

Day 1864 and Retail Therapy in Fashion Exile Land

Maybe it’s because it’s been such a wild week in the financial markets, but I’ve been thinking back to one of my moves to San Francisco just before the Great Recession. It’s a story about buying clothing but I’ll get to that.

I had just come off the high of being the first publisher to break (by live streaming and photography) a new fashion designer who would become one of the biggest names of his generation.

The low hit me as I realized I was unable to afford any of the pieces in his collection. And nor was I able to buy them anyway as the whole collection sold out instantly in New York City. I look back on being backstage at his first (and subsequent) shows with much fondness. Once he threw a full on carnival in a parking lot! Imagine models tossing their size 9.5 Manolo’s on concrete to hop into a bouncy castle.

Those models were his muses and he was known for an off-duty model look. I am about a foot too short, 20-30lbs too fat, and three cup sizes too large to be mistaken for a model so not an ideal customer.

Normally one could politely ask for samples or gifting if one helped break a collection, but this was not a sample collection that would have fit me. I’m a size 7 shoe and those boobs do me no favors for hanger sizes.

Still I wanted one item badly. Even if I couldn’t afford it and I couldn’t find it in stores, I kept an eye out everywhere for it.

The coveted item was a pair of high waisted pleated black wool trousers (lined with an ample cuff) that was the wearable merchandising anchor to a collection that was otherwise a bit tricky for mere mortals to wear.

For the men (and some women) who haven’t given thought to runway models, the metrics are specific. You need to be over 5’ 10”, never over 115lbs and have an A cup to fit a designer runway model call sheet.

These aren’t aesthetic preferences, just that models are a glorified hanger and not a person for purposes of ease of fitting. Yes it’s a bit degrading.

And so I resigned myself to never getting those pants and having only the glory of discovery and first to market coverage. Though the proof on that may be debated.

But then a small miracle happened. As I was relocating to San Francisco (by the buyer of my first startup) I began to get invited to events and parties.

A brand new Barney’s opened up off Union Square in San Francisco. An old girlfriend who had just married and moved to San Francisco told me “you will love the shopping out here as the good stuff never sells out!”

Mind you the collection had sold out in other fashion capitals. I had called around. I asked all the major stockists. It just wasn’t to be had anywhere.

But the new Barney’s was very late in opening and had stock from the previous season saved. I missed the opening party but thought maybe I’ll see something from the newer collection and I’ll splurge.

Well I got even luckier than I imagined. The pants were not only at the new Barney’s but on the sale rack. No one in the market had even liked them.

The salesgirl said weren’t moving as they were too formal and too trend forward for the town. They were having trouble moving most of the pieces from the designer in fact.

There were multiple pairs of the pants in size 38. That is a size 6 in American sizing which is almost always the first to sell out. I purchased it without even thinking. They were 40% off.

I still wear them to this day. And anytime I visit a bigger city or capital with a retailer of high end fashion, or designer goods, I’ll go looking. Sometimes in the strangest places you will find the exact item you wanted marked off in the middle of February.

Categories
Chronic Disease Travel

Day 1862 and No Gas in The Tank

I am very fatigued today so I’ll excuse myself to get on with it. I have had a few eccentric missions and side quests keeping me quick as we all adjust to whatever this strange moment in the world might be.

I haven’t had too steady a course of sleep thanks to some of the overflow on this terse intersections with reality. A few of them are fun but we’d probably all agree it’s weird out there.

So I found myself taking a nap as I had a bit of a sleep deficit. Now I realize I could do well with a lot more sleep. So I’ll see myself out. The the lights off if you are the last one out.

Categories
Aesthetics Travel

Day 1861 and Mispricing The Market

I’m sure most of the world will be fixated on various financial corrections in global markets but I spent a chunk of my day dealing with currency changes (that will be 7% of your withdrawal thank you) that reflect nonsense from monetary arbitrages, regulatory graft and foreign exchange transactions so I’m in absolutely no mood.

Then I went to what counts as the diplomat and foreign money mall and got Pizza Hut, frozen yogurt and Korean skincare. I don’t even like Pizza Hut but I was so sick of managing dislocations and figured I’d rather send it back to America. My patriotic consumption for the day.

I don’t know if it’s an urban legend that our military can deploy food franchises in twenty four hours in a conflict zone but we sure seem to figured out emerging markets.

It’s a shame we won’t let some markets emerge and be shaped by pressures. The vape kiosk was doing a brisk business and I was frustrated to see the owner of the favored electric vape was based in Shenzen. What an opportunity lost for American brands.

I’d say half the parking lot was Mercedes and the other half was BYD if that counts for anything. I haven’t seen an abundance of American cars and I think we all know why.

But then my savior was found in a brightly colored kiosk with no customers at all. A swath of Korean skincare brands that proved to be authentic. Blessedly many global K beauty brands have adopted QR codes to manage the misuse.

I am adapt at spotting packaging dupes and frauds thanks to the de minimus years importers of fakes flooded Amazon, eBay and other retailers with third party resellers.

Everything was half off as at their full retail price they were still not moving. I scooped up $30 bucks of masks from brands like Mishha and Some By Mi. My skin was fully irritated by smog, stress, and wider disappointment. The globalization era is in full swing in plenty of markets but everyone gets their cut. If a brand doesn’t command a local market then an enterprising consumer can enjoy a temporary mispricing. Sometimes this mispricing last for far too long.

Incumbents have strange advantages they are loathe to give up. I came out angrier at banks than usual, as angry at central banks as ever, and very pleased that the local consumer base wasn’t yet wise to the benefits of a product that commands a premium elsewhere. I might go get more.