No Kingdom, No Magic (Part I)

As a part-time employee working from home and a full-time dad, one of the big events in the year’s calendar is when Dad Goes on a Business Trip. Schedules are juggled – in particular, I have to be very careful how the week’s menu is set up, on behalf of one who is not an enthusiastic practitioner of the culinary arts – and there is a general buzz of anticipation.

OK, that’s mostly me (although my wife’s principal reaction was that she’d be able to keep the house clean, with a barely-unspoken “for a change”); as recounted previously, I just don’t get out of the house among adults too often. In this case the anticipation redoubles when the destination is revealed to be Orlando.

Orlando, while not quite Vegas, certainly evokes a certain mental picture: sunshine, warm weather, a giant frolicking rodent. Everyone I meet is jealous of my great fortune, especially with the last vestiges of snow on the ground and daily “high” temps in the low 40s. I protest in vain that I’m unlikely to have much recreation time on a two-day business trip, much less an opportunity to visit theme parks.

I am forced, however, to acknowledge that I am looking forward to a comfy hotel room, housekeeping picking up after me, and ample expense account meals. And it’s an Extended Stay Hotel, which means a suite! Living large, no doubt.

Of course, a trip to Orlando plus school-vacation week equals a plane full of families of all descriptions. Yet the flight down, a Southwest non-stop, is completely uneventful. Board on time, leave on time, arrive on time; everyone from 1 to 100 is placid and well-behaved. Even though it’s much more fun to be scornful and dismissive, I have to admit that Southwest rocks.

While I’m no road warrior, I’ve traveled now and then for the past 25 years, and it seems to me that all airports are more or less indistinguishable. The exception is probably Orlando: the airport is basically standard-issue, but you can always identify Orlando by the herds of families wandering around with dazed looks on their faces – either on their way, trying to reach the hotel “not far from the Magic Kingdom” before the kids explode; or headed home, fishing grimly in their Mickey-logo fanny packs for the last remaining 20 bucks needed to obtain the somewhat-edibles they’re not going to get on the plane. A novice traveler would do well to remember that, while the Food Network has programs on nearly every conceivable topic, there are no shows celebrating the joys of America’s Airport Food.

I get my luggage quickly and head for Ground Transportation. I’ve decided not to rent a car, since I have other teammates flying in who will be, but my hotel reservation says “Orlando”, so surely I can take a cab quicker and cheaper anyway. I neglected to visit Yahoo Maps ahead of time, but what’s the worst that could happen? Ten or fifteen minutes? $10-15 plus tip?

As I said, I’m no road warrior. The fare is close to 2 bucks before I even get out of the airport – not counting the mandatory 50-cent “airport surcharge”. As we travel, I’m mentally keeping a running tab of a 15% tip so I’ll be ready when we get there in a couple minutes. It gets harder to keep up as we pass from street to highway to toll road to interstate and the meter continues to click (well, digitally) like the gas pump when I fill up the minivan.

I do, of course, want to appear a road warrior and not Cletus just off the hay wagon – since I basically am just off the hay wagon, I’m always wary of being fleeced by cabbies – so I keep silent as if this is just what I expected. Finally, more than a half-hour and 40-some-odd dollars into the trip, I can’t help but ask: “Are we getting anywhere close?” The driver, whom you’ll be absolutely stunned to learn is a foreign gentleman, tells me it’s 3 more exits.

A reader would be forgiven for asking the same question… let’s just say I have a restraining order against me prohibiting me from using the phrase “to make a long story short”. And since I don’t want a single post to be longer than the cab ride, I’m going to resume next time.