My first real job was as a travel agent in the 70's. Most of the professional trials came from working with the music industry and their horrible travel schedules. Most of the personal tribulations came from learning how to work with the public in general, how to be patient, kind, long suffering, and polite in the face of a red faced stranger screaming at you about the lack of hotel parking and the fact that I had not informed him that (insert destination here) was so damned expensive.
The music industry presented a particularly difficult challenge when it came to booking their travel arrangements. This was back in the days before computers - when all tickets were written out by hand and all fares were worked out using a gargantuan set of constantly changing tariff sheets. This fare book was, I am not exaggerating, about 8 inches thick, with a daily influx of mailed updates to replace those that came in before. In other words, a nightmare. My own personal demon was Jimmy Buffet and his ladylove. This was before Jimmy became REAL famous and was playing the small venue circuit. A typical booking would go like this: Paducah, Kentucky on Friday, Walla Walla, Washington on Saturday, Happytown, Ohio, on Sunday, Hickville, Montana on Monday. Of course, none of these little towns had direct flights of any stretch of the imagination, so inbetween cities, there were several changes of planes. Sometimes, Jimmy’s ticket would be three or four stapled together to accomodate all of the stops. It would take a few days of arranging, rearranging, and gnashing of teeth to finally get all booked, and ticketed. Invariably, the next day, Jimmy or his manager would call to let me know that one of the gigs was cancelled (always the one in the middle of the trip) and that instead, they were going to some other God forsaken unheard of village. Oh, they would meekly add, we also need that ticket by tomorrow. I learned great patience and forbearance doing Jimmy’s tickets.
As for the public in general, let me just say that one has not truly worked until one has worked with the public at large. If you haven’t learned to hold your tongue after the first few weeks, you have either a) been fired b)gone mute or c) learned the art of seeing them all as 5 year olds.
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Quote of the day: A woman can wear stovepipe trousers and blue jeans or a farmer's bib or tails and a top hat and so what - she's just exercising her options as a consumer; but if a man puts on a skirt he'd better be ready to pick up a bagpipe and blow. Natalie Algier - "Woman"Chosen because it made me laugh - one of those little eternal truths softened by humor.
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