Sheridan Wyoming

This week I went someplace that I haven�t been to in years � Sheridan Wyoming. I once visited Sheridan on a fairly regular basis as this is where my mother-in-law used to live. At the time, she was married to the Air Force recruiter there, and since I was going to a school in the Denver area, it was reasonably feasible to visit from time to time.

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It seems that it has amused the folks at the Delta Airlines counter in Austin to memorize my name, because just like the last time I checked in, this time they all greeted me by name before I checked in or provided ID. It must have been amusing and maybe a bit confusing for some of the other folks checking in when three people behind the counter all called out some variety of �Hey Matt, welcome back� to the tall blond �woman� dragging two large bags behind her. Of course this means that now I�ve gotta try and learn and remember their names! Lol

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Normally when I travel, I note a variety of attitudes directed toward me, usually amusement, sometimes even delight, and very rarely disdain. On this trip though, I�d swear that it was mostly disdain. The flight attendants on both legs of the trip were somewhat stand offish, and I�d swear that the flight attendant between Salt Lake City and Billings Montana was almost hostile. Nothing you could place your finger on or point to and say �See, she was rude�, but she left the distinct impression that she didn�t like me. Very curt and formal, never a smile, and never a �your welcome� to the many times I said �Thank you� to her for odds and ends.

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I�ve recently learned that Delta will allow you to use your frequent flier points to buy membership in their airport club � the Sky Miles Club. This is kind of like a country club at most airports, where you can go in to a nice, comfortable, and quiet environment and get snacks, coffee, and even cocktails at no charge. I would never have considered forking over the $800 annual fee for membership, but since they let me use my miles, it was essentially free, and so I joined a few days ago.

When I entered the Sky miles club in Salt Lake, the woman at the reception desk was absolutely frigid. If I�d had to spend more than a few seconds with her I probably would have caught a cold! Moving past the ice queen at the front desk, I started to explore the place, trying to learn what Delta thought was worth almost a thousand dollars a year. When I entered the main club area, I found a large room full of people, a bar and bartender, a table set up with a toaster and bagels, and another table loaded with snacks. I was more than a little impressed with how big the place was and by how many people were in it. I�d say that there were easily over a hundred people scattered about in lounge chairs and at tables. It was too early in the morning for a drink, so I skipped the bar and continued exploring the joint. As I was walking past the conference and meeting rooms, a young man dressed in the staff uniform walked by me and gave me a huge smile.

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�Well hello!� he said to me. Given that most of the feedback I�d had on this trip had been less than positive, I literally could have hugged the guy for the genuine smile on his face.

�Good Morning!� I replied to him, returning his smile.

�And how are you this morning?� he asked. From his tone and mannerism, I�d guess that he was either gay or TG himself. I know, I know, you can�t claim that �gay� has a special sound or vocabulary, but let�s throw political correctness to the wind and just be honest with each other here. The vast majority of the time, you can tell if a man is gay or not pretty quickly after starting a conversation, especially if he wants you to know.

�Oh, I couldn�t be much gooder, thanks for asking! How are you?� I replied.

�I�m doing just great thanks!�

�I�m exploring!� I told him with a wink and with about the same attitude that Elmer Fudd says �I�m hunting wabbit!�? He just let out a laugh.

�Well good for you! Please let me know if there is anything at all that I can do for you.�

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Feeling a little better about the trip after the friendly interaction, I then made my way to the very small plane that took me from Salt Lake to Billings Montana. When we landed at the airport I walked the entire length of the place looking for the Avis counter and didn�t find it. Most other rental car companies I found, but no avis. At last I walked up to the Enterprise counter where there was a bored woman standing behind the counter.

�Excuse me, but do you know where to find the Avis counter?� I asked her politely, well aware that I was asking her to help me find her competition. She just looked at me for a second, no smile, no nothing.

�They don�t have a counter at the airport.� She said with supremely bored tone. She didn�t bother expanding or offering advice, she just returned to her paper work and totally ignored me. I found a seat, sat down, and pulled out my laptop and checked my reservations. Sure enough, it said that they were located down town, not at the airport, and so I gave �em a call.

�Hi, I have a reservation with you and I am at the airport. Do y�all have a shuttle or something?� I asked.

�We sure do. As a matter of fact, he is right outside of door number four right now.� She said with a cheerful voice. I looked around me to see that I was only a hundred feet or so from that door.

�Awesome! Thanks!� I told her and then stuffed my laptop back in to its case. I grabbed my things and headed out the door where I found the Avis van parked not ten feet away. As I approached it, two gentlemen I�d guess to be in their early sixties both rushed forward to take my bags for me.

�Climb on in miss, we�ll take care of these for you.� I was told. As I entered the van, I found four male passengers already seated and one of them moved over to make room for me. As the driver got in, he turned to me.

�Can I have your last name please?� he asked with a smile, holding a clipboard and pen in his hand. I gave him my last name and watched him skim the list with his pen, and then look up at me again.

�I�m sorry, what was it again?� he asked and I once again told him. I saw him skim the list with his pen again and this time I saw the light go off in his eyes when he figured out that yes, he had the right name, and yes, my first name was �Matt�. That was where all of the smiles ended. . .??

It was all I could do to keep from chuckling as I watched him peeking at me over and over through his rear view mirror the entire drive to the Avis lot. I�d give fifty bucks to hear what he was thinking . . .