I was sitting in the Orlando International Airport one day waiting at the gate to board my departing flight. By the way, the acronym for the Orlando International Airport is MCO. What the heck is that? MCO? Shouldn’t it be OIA? The airport in Hartford, Conn., is BDL. Orange County, Calif., is SNA, and Newark, N.J., is EWR. As a frequent traveler this drives me crazy. When you go to an airline web site to book a flight, you can’t just type in your travel destination, you have to enter the secret code. And if you don’t know the secret code for your travel destination, you have to go to the airport secret code link and look it up. And I’m pretty sure if there’s an acronym in airport manuals for the airport secret code link it’s not ASCL.
Sorry, I needed to vent.
Back at the MCO departure gate, a guy sat next to me and I was temporarily blinded by the sunlight reflecting off of a huge, shiny, platinum luggage tag attached to his computer case that read, “President’s Sales Club.” Wiping the tears from my eyes, I asked if he was in sales. He said he sold mobile equipment storage containers for use at construction sites. You’ve probably never really noticed those big metal boxes at construction sites. They look a lot like the big 18-wheeler trucks that pass you on the highway, without the truck part on the front or the 18 wheels underneath. And you don’t see them on the road; they’re typically located at construction sites. In fact, I guess they’re really not much like those 18-wheelers at all. Bad comparison.
Anyway, we talked for a while about the storage container business and how he became so successful in sales for his company. Suddenly, his cellular phone rang and he became engaged in a conversation with his teenage daughter about going off to college. He looked confused and frustrated when he hung up.
He loosened his tie, looked into space, shrugged his shoulders and began to ask, “Do you have a teenage …” and then tried to rip his mouth and chin off with his bare hand.
I raised two fingers and uttered, “Whew, ah … whoa!” I looked at my shoes and shook my head.
“Man, so sorry … me … just one,” he said as he rolled his eyes up, “… deserve a medal.”
“Last week … got her grades … well I … and she … you understand?” I sputtered.
He gritted his teeth and responded, “Same thing with … but … hid them … oh man!”
We sat there looking at each other until finally we were able to speak in complete sentences again.