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Atlanta, Georgia—city of rich history, antebellum homes and multi-laned highways. Recently, we flew into this great area (for the first time I might add!) to speak at a conference a few miles away.
Having made plans prior to our arrival, we decided that we would land in Atlanta, rent a car and then make our way to the hotel. Sounds simple enough. We’ve done it dozens of times in other cities.
First, we began gathering our rather large assortment of luggage. (We’re not divas, we require a lot of props in our presentations, or so our story goes…). Renting a cart thingy that costs enough to warrant a credit card, we began pushing our mound of baggage toward the rental car area.
Next, Kathy decided she would perch by the bags while I went to the counter. The very nice lady processed the paperwork, smiled and told me to head to the rental car shuttle bus pickup area (located down another hallway).
I couldn’t believe how many people were at the airport at 9:30 at night. But then again, I was. We navigated our way through the crowd to the shuttle stop only to find another crowd waiting for the same reason.
The bus arrived and some very gallant southern men helped us with our bags, chuckling to each other about “women and their luggage.” The kind shuttle driver took us to the next rental car counter and again we had assistance with our luggage—although the comments regarding their number and weight were louder this time.
Kathy again volunteered to stay with the bags while I went to secure the key to the rental car. I guess I had a bewildered look on my face because a businessman turned to me and asked, “Do you have a question?”
“Um…yeah. I need to get the key to my rental car. Is this the line?”
“Isn’t the key in your assigned car?” he asked.
“I don’t know. I’ve never really…well…um…sure. I’ll go look!” Scampering away, I ran back to Kathy to tell her my new information.
I found Kathy in the rain with the bags, pushing the cart with all her might and making no progress at all. As she pushed and I pulled, we became quite a sight to all the distinguished-looking professionals who watched in amazement. We were getting nowhere except wet. By now, we saw the humor in all this and couldn’t contain ourselves. We laughed and crossed our legs in order to keep from doing what some women do who are over the age of 40. The more we laughed, the weaker we became.
The rain came down harder and our cart still wasn’t moving. Finally, Kathy found a little metal bar on the side and pressed it. It was the handbrake. Wow! The cart moved so much easier with that released.
Pleased with ourselves, we made our way to rental car #54. The businessman was right. The keys were already in the ignition. Still giggling, we began loading our bags into this midsize car. With two bags remaining, we soon realized that no amount of geometric figuring was going to get all of our luggage into this car.
Breaking into laughter again, we made arrangements to switch cars, and soon began our trek to the hotel. Since we are both directionally-challenged, Kathy brought along her navigational system complete with destination addresses. She turned the little box on and we waited to receive our instructions.
It was nearing 10:30 p.m., and Atlanta tends to be very dark at that hour. We weren’t worried because we had Tom-Tom. Tom-Tom began to tell us which ramp to take and which direction to head. “Easy as pie!” I thought to myself, and it was until Tom-Tom told us to take a road that didn’t exist. Then he told us to turn around. So we did. Then he again told us to take a road that didn’t exist. Then he told us to turn around. Yes, we were driving in circles in Atlanta. (FYI—yelling at Tom-Tom doesn’t help or make him change his mind.)
Beyond hysterical, we finally found a road that Tom-Tom liked and made our way to the hotel. We didn’t look like much going in to register at the hotel, but we sure had fun getting there.
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