I am normally quite a price-sensitive consumer. That is, I do the legwork to minimise what I pay. Brand loyalty? Bah. I’ll go with whoever offers me the better deal.

But I have discovered that airport transits are such a waste of time that I would pay an extra few hundred dollars to avoid hours of waiting at airports.

I’m in transit at Singapore airport. As airports go, this one’s pretty good. Free internet access for one thing. Lots of shops open, even though it’s the middle of the night. Excellent signage. Free reading material. Plants and fountains. Perfect climate control. Mag wheels, central locking and seven CD/MP3 stacker. Airport of the year.

See you soon, Damo!

I went to the bank to buy some British pounds and EU euros with my Australian dollars. As the teller handed me the requested amount of money, she said, “So are you going for work or a holiday?”

“A holiday,” I said happily.

“Lucky! How long are you gone for?”

“For three weeks.”

“Oh.” She paused for a while. “Well, I was going to say that if when you come back you have any currency left over, you can come in and sell it back to us without being charged a commission.” She eyed my wad of cash. “But you won’t have any money left over.”

I’m sure I’d enjoy this more if I was geekier. I do appreciate the aesthetic and the wit, though.

The Tao of Backup

(Perhaps it’s nothing to do with geekiness. Perhaps I’d appreciate it more the day Windows crashes and wipes out my digital life.)

Edited Sunday 19 March 14:12: Now that I’ve read it properly, I change my mind. It’s hysterical even for non-geeks.

“We’ve still got an hour,” Peter said. “We can wait in the Qantas Club.”

Clair and I hesitated. When we tried to get into the Qantas Club in Melbourne this morning, the staff had allowed us in reluctantly. Each member was only allowed one guest per trip.

We walked into the foyer of the Canberra airport Qantas club.

“Excuse me!” the receptionist said. “Can I see your boarding passes?” Peter showed her his. I sort of waved mine at her too. Clair did the same.

“Only one guest,” she said. We looked at each other.

“Can you let us in this time?” Peter asked casually.

“No.” She shook her head firmly.

“Go ahead, Peter,” I said. “We can wait outside. I’ve waited in airports before. I don’t need the Qantas club.”

There was a long silence as we stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to do.

“Well, no, you wait here,” Peter said. “I’ll see if there’s anyone I know.” He disappeared into the club. What? What’s he doing? What’s he mean, see if there’s anyone he knows?

Clair and I waited at the edges. I tried not to look at the receptionist.

Two minutes passed and Peter emerged with another gentleman. His companion looked at us with a small smile.

“Right, let’s go” was Peter’s brisk introduction. Surprised, Clair and I scurried after him.

“Hold on!” the receptionist called. “Do you have a guest already?”

Peter’s companion shook his head. “No.”

The receptionist glowered as the four of us walked into the club, where complimentary wine, food, magazines, TV and internet access awaited us.

As soon as we reached the lounge, we waved goodbye to the accommodating fellow.

“Peter, was he some stranger you just picked up?” Clair laughed.

“Oh, I know him from the university,” Peter said vaguely. “I just thought there might be someone I knew.

I’m procrastinating, big time. I haven’t procrastinated this much since… well, since I last had to do homework. I’m meant to be writing an essay. Damn.

My problem is I’m going to Europe in two weeks for a three week holiday. Three days after I come back, I have to present my research paper. Instead of having five weeks to write this thing, I have two weeks.

My lecturer is very reasonable — I have a two week extension on the final paper. But that doesn’t help me for the presentation. It’s better I do this now.

All those people who collect Metcard tickets — HA! You’ve been outdone! You’ve wasted your time.

Top this!

Referenced from Winza.

I was half paying attention during the training course when I heard Michelle ask, “Who hasn’t used the job management interface before?”

Without thinking, I put my hand up. That’s why I was here, right? I had to get with the program.

“Joan! You can come down to the front and drive the mouse.” Michelle waved me down to the front of the room. I hesitated then put my pen down and walked to the front.

Michelle handed me the wireless keyboard and mouse. I spent the rest of the one hour training course responding to Michelle’s cues: “And if we click on the ‘New Claim’ button… Let’s choose ‘lump sum’… Joan, pick any job manager in the second drop down menu…”

They must have been wondering why I appeared clumsy with the mouse and keyboard. I was just that little bit too slow…

Well, the reason I was unsteady was that I couldn’t see! I had forgotten to bring my glasses and could only make out vague shapes on the projector screen.

“Joan, fill in the job description in the main box.”

I waved the mouse around, nervously looking for any screen movement that would show me where the mouse pointer had gotten to. I finally found it and clicked on the largest white space I could see on the screen. I typed, “New airport in Afghanistan. It was made of gold.” I didn’t know how many spelling mistakes I had made. When they all started laughing, I figured it was all right.

“Thanks for driving, Joan,” Michelle said to me at the end of the session.

I had made it through the hour without revealing my disability. Needless to say, I had concentrated so hard during it all that I hadn’t learned a single thing.

An email was making the rounds. The rumour was that 10 000 Krispy Kreme donuts were being given away at QV square. As Thursday approached, my workmates were increasingly excited.

When I arrived back in the city after visiting a client in Newport, I decided to walk by QV square and see if I could score a donut. Behold! Thousands of people filled the square; the queues were five people wide. There were people walking away from little green, red and white stall with donut in serviettes and looks of rapture on their faces.

Forget my idea of trying one of these! There was no way I could justify the charegeable time to queue up for a donut.

During the day, other things besides the donut queues alerted to me to the status of these donuts. In the office, I heard:

“Krispy Kreme donuts are so great! Every time I’m in Sydney, I buy boxes of them and bring them back to Melbourne. Have you ever had one?”

“Yeah, I had one in Sydney.”

“Only one?”

More than one person in the office confessed to bringing donuts back from interstate. I have been told that Krispy Kreme donut boxes are common sights in the departure lounges at Sydney airport. I know my cousins have done it before.

I had a meeting at Southbank in the afternoon and on the walk back, I saw people with Krispy Kreme boxes.

When I read the paper today, the weekly ‘What’s Hot’ column declared that, “Krispy Kreme coming to Melbourne” was hot.

Isn’t that crazy? How can a donut inspire such fervour and adulation?

“But they’re so good!” Erin told me. “Just wait until you try one!”

Well, I guess I will.