RantWoman scored a cheap and meaningful though idiosyncratic and blessedly low-budget reason to go to MT. There were even lots of people RantWoman could have ridden with, had she been able to leave town in a timely way. Instead, RantWoman opted for, drum roll please, GREYHOUND.
RantWoman admits to a certain minimum yearly rquirement of Greyhound, if only to keep her Greyhound nerves sharp for whatever comes along. RantWoman was running a Greyhound deficit and was clueless about current trends in ticketing, charging for luggage, and other delights. Unfortunately, RantWoman like many Greyhound passengers also has a schedule subject to, well, life. RantWoman looked once online for schedules and fares and the arrangements seemed tolerable but not ideal. RantWoman actually equivocated about her trip for a number of reasons and stupidly did not buy her ticket right away.
When RantWoman got ready to buy her ticket online, she rant into two problems. One is that stupid 3-character code on people's credit cards that online merchants frequently want as proof that the person filling in the data has the actual card in his or her hot little hand. Never mind that RantWoman qualifies as BLIND. That stuff wears off so badly that sighted people can never find it either.
(Memo to credit card cos: FIX THIS! RantWoman can think of a whole bunch of ways to defeat the current method. If you also want RantWoman to help think of ways to provide the desired verification in a durable way, RantWoman is happy to offer a consulting contract to consider options!)
RantWoman actually wrote the code in fat pen on one of her cards, but for the bus ticket RantWoman was doing trial and error about the third digit from what she remembered for the other card. Alas, RantWoman was not getting any error message topical to that problem. RantWoman was getting an error message about wanting a credit card expiration date after the date of travel or within the same century or some dang thing that had nothing to do with the actual problem.
What was the actual problem? The actual problem was that the bus RantWoman wanted was SOLD OUT. It was already sold out when Rantwoman arrived at the bus station, but RantWoman did not see the sign or glean any chatter until after ferrener husband had dropped her and a ridiculous amount of luggage off!
When the news finally registered, RantWoman looked at the ticket agent really pathetically and he agreed that it was fine to wait until everyone boarded the bus and see whether there wound up being a seat. Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha! Not only were there no seats, a whole bunch of transferring passengers did not get on either. The other passengers even had stories of more dire desparation than RantWoman's need for a vacation and there still were not seats. Finally RantWoman bought her ticket to ensure she had a seat on the next morning's bus and prevailed on the staff to let her leave the luggage. Other passengers got to sleep overnight in the bus station; RantWoman at least rode Metro home, slept in her own bed and got on the bus the next morning.
Here RantWoman could whine at length about the limitations of her barebones cellphone with minimal accessibility features. RantWoman supposes she could otherwise have written down a certain 800 number for Greyhound, but phone numbers written on otherpieces of paper is exactly one of the problems cellphone memory is supposed to ameliorate. RantWoman does not want a completely endless tirade about the costs of accessibility features, but feel free to replay ad nauseum.
Next, when the bus stopped for 45 minutes in Spokane, silly RantWoman thought maybe, just maybe she might be able to whip out her laptop and get an email fix. The earnest immigrant running the bus station cafe had no idea where the nearest Wi-fi was. It was also a skadillion degrees outside so RantWoman opted for air conditioning and caffeine rather than extensive foraging for connectivity in her visual fog.
At Spokane though RantWoman was joined by a travel companion with other desires akin to RantWoman's: RantWoman acquired a quite young seatmate who would have liked a way to recharge her iPod. RantWoman would have loved Wi-fi on the bus and a way to plug in: RantWoman's laptop is an embarrassing battery hog! So in addition to fixing the ticketing fiascoes, RantWoman would be thrilled if the buses added electrical outlets and Wi-Fi. RantWoman is pretty aware that especially the Wi-Fi is not what one would expect for much of the bus-riding demographic, but RantWoman also overheard at least one other passenger saying things that sounded like, if he were not gabbing away on his cellphone, he might use Wi-fi too. 2 passengers out of 50 per bus? Would RantWoman pay extra for this? MAYBE.
Finally, RantWoman arrived at the University of MT. RantWoman had consumed caffeine late enough in the afternoon to have trouble sleeping, but at least she resisted the urge to log in. For an account of what happened please see Wherein RantWoman has a pathetic meltdown and copes with unplugging anywayPlease pay particular attention to:
--attending conferences on college campuses.
--the perils of technical support for rarely-used functions such as an ADA terminal in a university library.
--the perils of passing, RantWoman's reward for successfully walking around mostly without bumping into people and making what looks to other people like appropriate eye contact even though RantWoman may or may not be seeing a darn thing.
--some spectacular moments of user error and user obtuseness on top of all the other potholes in the info superhighway.
--why maybe, just maybe all that technology is superfluous anyway.
Meanwhile, RantWoman is still churning through the overfull inbox, but at least she is more relaxed while doing it.
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