Today I will have made my doctor very happy
At my yearly check up a few years ago, my doctor asked me how many times a week I drink alcohol.
I have no idea why he suddenly felt this was necessary information for him to have after all these years.
When I told him I drink every day he made no comment. But no comment was necessary as his disapproval was shown by his inability to control his eyebrows. They shot up to his hairline and stayed there for some time.
He then asked me how many drinks I have everyday.
The questions were getting harder.
I told him I drink two glasses of wine everyday.
He paused for some time, trying to come up with a measured reply.
Finally he said, “I don’t mind you having a drink everyday, but what would happen if you had just one glass?”
Holding firmly to the belief that honesty is the best policy when talking to my doctor, I replied
“I would want another” .
He has asked me those first two questions every year since, but he has never asked me the third question again.
My replies remain the same although the size of the glass gets bigger
However at my next check up I will be able to tell him that I went one entire day without a drink. That should make him very happy, although it did not have that same effect on me. My sudden abstinence was inflicted on me by my loving husband. Gordon has for years enforced an unwritten rule of his that on any flight of less than 5 hours we will sit in the back of the plane.
As you can imagine this is not a rule that I whole heartedly endorse
Today’s flight was from San Francisco to Anchorage.
I am convinced that United Airlines has been in cohoots with Gordon as they list the flight time at four hours and 54 minutes. Gordon felt that this put the flight well within his five hour rule. I felt it was close enough to five hours to allow for an upgrade to business class.
Gordon did not.
As usual my easy going nature took over and I showed my usual tolerance for Gordon’s unwritten rules, never complaining for a moment. It is this side of me that has allowed us to stay together for some 47 years.
In an unaccustomed moment of flexibility, Gordon allowed us to upgrade to “Premium Economy”. I allowed myself a tiny moment of celebration as I assumed this would allow us a certain amount of comfort. It did not.
Premium Economy, it turns out, means that we pay a premium for what used to be an economy seat. Our seat would recline a full 5 degrees plus it had ample padding on the seat cushion. Today’s economy seats have no padding and do not recline. The airlines are taking the term “economy” to a new level.
In the back of the seat infront of us, was a small screen, not much larger than today’s cell phone. On this we could attempt to watch a movie, for a small fee. If the flight was under two hours it was just $2 which considering you would not have time to watch the end of the movie, seemed quite expensive. If the flight was over 2 hours you paid $7, in effect penalizing you for flying the friendly skies for too long.
Premium economy also comes with “free snacks and non alcoholic drinks” which means five tiny pretzels in a foil bag that is impossible to open without using scissors (not allowed on board), and half a can of soda water. Our flight was an evening flight and so we had discussed buying a glass of wine to go with our five pretzels. However our flight attendant, who had definitely reached “wagon dragon” status some years prior to this flight, had no wine on her trolley and showed no inclination to look elsewhere.
We went the entire evening without a drink. And for this my Doctor thanks our wagon dragon. She made him, but not me, very happy.
Sadly, the five hour rule is not the only unwritten rule that my husband has strictly adhered to over the years. Another rule concerns our choice of hotels. This rule again inflicts considerable discomfort on his beloved (that would be MOI!). But does he care? He most certainly does not. And do I go along with this rule with my usual easy going attitude and uncomplaining air? I do.
This rule states that if we are only staying in a hotel for one night there is absolutely no need to pay for any unnecessary comforts. I have yet to discover any comforts that are unnecessary – but Gordon seems to have a long list. Any hotel room that is reasonably clean, has its own bathroom and is available for less than $100 a night is Gordon’s idea of perfection for a one night stay.
Anchorage proved a challenge for poor Gordon. Hotels are expensive and there was nothing to be had for under $100. He searched the internet for days and the best he could find was a room for $180 for the night. He was apoplectic.
So was I when I saw the room. It was 8 x 10 with one queen bed, a desk and chair, a tiny fridge and a coffee maker. There was no closet, not even a hook on the back of the door, and nowhere to put our suitcases. The only decoration on the wall was an ironing board inexplicably hanging several feet above the floor, next to the bed. There was just enough room to walk around the bed, although why one would want to was unclear. The only destination was a small window with a charming view of the car park and a flashing neon sign advertising the entrance to Ding How Chinese restaurant.
A tiny bathroom had been built in to the corner of the room. There was so little space inside the bathroom that they had been forced to install the world’s smallest hand basin, which I could just about manage, and the world’s smallest toilet which I could not. I don’t wish to appear indelicate but it was impossible to get both cheeks on the toilet at once. Using it successfully was an art I did not manage to acquire in just one night.
As I sit here typing this with Gordon reading over my shoulder, he is complaining that I am being unfair. Note the word “unfair”. It is very different from the word “untruthful” . But as usual, I shall say nothing and accept my lot with my usual good grace.
And if I am going to be fair, which of course I always am, I should point out that all of this economy travel is leading up to a two week Alaskan cruise on Seabourn. And here I offer full disclosure – who chose this luxury cruise – no one else but my poor hard done to, penny pinching husband. You might remember my previous cruises on this luxurious cruise line, and if you don’t, I most certainly do.
Both I and The Fabulosity meter love Seabourn. And so I readily (well almost readily) forgive Gordon for his strict adherence to his unnecessarily rigid and thrifty unwritten rules.