I imagine just about everyone has seen that movie with George Clooney right? So I departed Houston, bound for China, with 998,208 lifetime flight miles with United Airlines. Woohoo – gonna be a million miler. I had requested my free global upgrade (I received 6 of these in January, along with 2 domestic upgrades due to the fact that I spent about a kabillion dollars with United last year). I was surprised that I did not show the upgrade, but certain that I would get it on check-in.
I made sure my hair was perfectly coiffed, I looked comfortable but stylish and was ready for what I was certain would be a wonderful reception by the UA staff and crew. I secretly was thinking that maybe when I got to the airport I would be upgraded not just to business first, but maybe that one lone free seat in the secret Global First cabin. You know the one. The cabin you cannot see unless you are a “Global First” passenger with the golden ticket. Maybe even a red carpet. For sure an in-flight announcement at the moment the plane passed that million mile mark. A glass of champagne delivered to my seat by a pilot that looks like Brad Pitt, or maybe even George Clooney. I was ready people. And so excited.
I arrived at the airport for checkin with a huge smile on my face. I entered my reservation into the kiosk, and waited for the attendant to check my Chinese visa so that I could complete my checkin. Got my boarding passes. No upgrade. Hm. I asked the attendant and she told me that the flight to SFO was booked full in first, but that I should check at the counter in SFO and they would issue my upgrade there. Hm.
Arrived SFO late and made the mad dash to terminal 1 from terminal 3 (seriously, does United think it a good idea to make passengers perform an aerobic event prior to boarding a 14 hour flight? Good grief.). Ran to the counter with the huge smile back in place to have my visa checked and get, I was certain, my upgrade. Visa checked. No mention of upgrade so I had to ask. They told me they would come get me but that I should board right away. No mention of million miles, no mention of nothing, just told to board. Row 30 Seat H. I have renamed this seat the “Bathroom Alley Monitor Seat”. So of course I boarded. And waited. And waited. And waited.
No upgrade. No glass of champagne. No pilot. No announcement. Not a word. Not even a thank you for spending all your money with us. Nothing. Nada. Bupkis. Just a small bottle of cheap chardonney handed over by an overworked flight attendant.
I am so disappointed.
Don’t they know who I am? I am a million miler. Shouldn’t that mean something?
And don’t get me started on the whole Bathroom Monitor Seat thing. I mean, seriously, I never realized the Bathroom Monitor phenomenon. Apparently when one sits in this seat, after a period of time, one begins to note who uses the bathroom and how frequently. I am pretty sure that poor guy from row 26 had a touch of tummy-itis. And what is up with the lady from 22? She must have gone every 30 minutes. I figured that she might have a little eating disorder or something like that going on. But I am pretty sure the teenager in 24 was up to no good. He went in there so many times I began to give him the stink eye to let him know – I was watching. I was keeping track.
And people – DO NOT LEAN ON THE BACK OF MY SEAT. My head is there. You pull my hair and annoy the living daylights out of me. Go lean on your own seat. I swear this happened like 20 times. And why were they so surprised when I smacked them off the back of my chair. Just because there is no chair behind my chair, and it is positioned next to Bathroom Alley, it does not mean you have the right to lean on the top of my head. Jeez.
Today I decided since I did not get my “Up In The Air” moment, I would at least look at my United account and revel a little in the million miles posted. Um. Still at 998,208. WTF?
It only got better. I arrived to my apartment and was unpacking. I opened the door to the closet in the hallway to hang my coats and one of the doors fell on my head. No screws in the top hinge. I wonder what, exactly, the apartment management thought was gonna happen when I opened it. Midnight, and still cannot sleep so think – how about a nice cup of herbal tea. I plugged in the kettle and realized, it is broken – of course only after trying it in every outlet in the apartment. I had to microwave my water. I know that sounds silly, but I prefer my hot water out of a kettle. I just do.
But today all is better. Kettle – replaced. Hinge – screwed. Have some work to do and some errands to run. But, although cold, the sun is shining and I have BANANA NAAN.
OK – let me explain. I just call it banana naan. I went to dinner last night with one of our colleagues, and he took us to the Chinese Curry House which I adore. We got the crispy eel (sound gross I know but tastes kinda like potato chips with a yummy sauce), curried veggies, spicy shrimp and banana naan. Actually, I looked at the menu and they call it “Banana Throw Bread”. I am not sure what they throw it at, and I probably do not want to know, but it is devine. Banana is layered into a very thin naan type bread.
The best part is taking home the leftover banana naan. So here is my recipe for what I call “Banana Naan French Toast”.
In a sauce pan, melt butter and a bit of sugar. Bring it to a simmer. Drop in the banana naan (or I suppose you can throw it in if you want to be traditional). Let get a little tiny bit carmelized. Yum yum yum.
On that note, I will leave you today and go eat my breakfast. I love the comments you leave – so please feel free. More next week.