No, YOU'RE a sissy.

This post is brought to you from the Philadelphia Airport as I wait for my return flight home. It was a quick trip. One might even call it unproductive. Here are the highlights:

We Try Harder
Avis does. They told me so. I just picked them because they had a decent price and the words "discount" and "budget" weren't in the name of the company which usually means "terrifying" or "rollerskate" and since I was here for work, I could afford to travel safely.

The car was fine. I really can't complain or suggest their advertising was false. The aforementioned ad was in the shuttle from the rental car place to the terminal and it really got me thinking. Do they really try HARDER? And at what? The car was nice. The people I dealt with were prompt and attentive. But harder? I don't know.

They tried hard to sell me insurance I didn't need. They tried really really hard to sell me road-side assistance I didn't need. They did not try hard to dissuade me from pre-paying for a full tank of gas when the car they rented to me obviously held at least 800 gallons and there's no way I would even use 1/4 of the tank going where I was going... which I told them. What's $60 in gas when I'm sure I used $10? But whatever. Buyer beware.

Rental Cars are Sissies.

I wasn't driving when I took this picture, I just like the glowy effect. It makes it seem like I was shivvering when I took it. Which I wasn't. While 35 degress is certainly cold, I don't think it warrants a note from inside the car. I KNOW it's cold out. I was just out there. But thank you, I guess.

Public Service Fail
Somewhere outside where you get your rental cars at the Philly airport (yeah, I call it Philly... it told me it didn't mind), there's this advertisement that repeats loudly over a loudspeaker. It is 25 seconds of a baby shrieking and 5 seconds of someone talking about how horrible something is. I have to admit, I missed the message on the advertisement because after 25 seconds of the baby crying I was so distraught I couldn't understand English anymore. At first I thought maybe it was really a lost baby and they were broadcasting its cries so the parents would quickly come rescue whomever had found it.

But it wasn't. It was a public service announcement about jobs or crime or... I have no idea what it was trying to promote other than anxiety attacks. And I'm not even a parent. I imagine any parent hearing those shrieks broadcast over a loudspeaker and wondering "Shit! Did I leave my baby in the rental?" and then lactating all over the place. Horrible. I mentioned it to the woman who handed me the keys to the car and she said "Oh, I don't even hear it anymore." I repeat: Horrible.

Everyone is sick
Everyone in the universe. There are signs in the Philadelphia airport about H1N1. Is that still happening? What the fuck? Should I be wearing a mask? I'm pretty sure I just touched my eye and I haven't washed my hands in at least 30 seconds. I don't want the flu. Why are sick people out? I kind of feel sick. I dreamt about vomiting last night. Who dreams about vomiting? Hypochondriacs do. I'm going to go find a mask. I hope my flight isn't delayed. Can I still sit in the exit row if I'm a hypochondriac?

Update from my bed at home: 
New pro tip: The Exit Row sucks. Don't get it unless you hate being entertained because you can't keep any of your bags and while it's nice to have all that leg room and not have to get up when the guy in the middle seat has to pee 18 times, you miss your stuff which invariably ends up 10 rows behind you and so you're stuck with just your Kindle and the drunk people behind you who have had at least 6 pints too many according to their own estimation.

Also, I should really learn to talk to strangers. The guy next to me was really nice and kind of cute and kind of chatty, but I gave my standard I'm-on-an-airplane one word answers. He even helped me get my bags down and was just nice. And lives here. Next time...
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Updated 1/30/13: You guys are welcome to let me know how distressing it is when I misspell "distraut" and don't fix it. Just don't be a dick about it. I'm not perfect.