I made a crucial error in judgment yesterday. One of my favorite little games is to try to get the best possible air fare for trips. In fact, our trip to London in 2004 was conceived solely due to a really unbelievable fare of $240 round trip out of Chicago. Sometimes I even play this airfare game a little too heartily, trading a $300 fare out of Green Bay for a $240 fare out of Milwaukee, forgetting that it involves a two hour trip each way, parking and probably an overnight stay in a hotel, which ends up costing more than the original Green Bay fare (I would like to say that I have only made that mistake once, but tragically, it is not the case). Needless to say, I am signed up on various little alert systems and the like, and just enjoy fantasizing about trips to Belize or Ireland or Mumbai.
So when I got an email about an unbelievably low $39 round trip ticket to Cyprus, I did what anyone would do. Well, first I went to Wikipedia and looked up Cyprus, because I wasn’t exactly sure where it was. I thought maybe it was near Israel, somewhere, because I think I remember reading about it in parochial school. It is indeed near the area, closer to Turkey and Greece, but in my head, I could hear Esteban yelling at me for going anywhere near the Middle East (that is one of his restrictions on my wanderlust: no Middle East while a Bush is in the White House). Then I researched the fares and found that yes, Orbitz and one other site was listing the whoops fares and yes, they were business class.
I repeat: Business Class. $39. Round trip.
What is more, the connecting stop? Italy. More specifically, Rome and Milan. In fact, there was a 32 hour layover in Milan on the way back. This is the point that a wee fey voice in my head sings ‘Meeelanno!’ and then there is the sound of accordions, which I think are maybe Italian, or maybe my inner voice is still pissed off about my waffling on the trip to Paris this past January.
Of course, I went back and bought the ticket right? Because that’s what any sane person would have done?
No. I did no such thing.
Instead I fretted about the trip, about our impending tax bill and my discomfort at draining the savings account, about the fact that I’d also have to buy a separate ticket from GB to Toronto, the fare’s starting point. And then, because I couldn’t deal with split decision making like that, I wandered away and got distracted by something shiny.
I came back later and decided, aw hell, I’ll just buy two tickets and certainly SOMEONE will want to go with me on a very cheap vacation to the Mediterranean, right? Right? Except by that time, the same fare was $6849. I am so very stupid.
When I told Esteban about it later, waiting for the vindication that of course Cyprus would be miserable in the summer and perhaps the island was the physical inspiration for Hades and also, they snipe shoot tourists for sport, but instead, he snorted and said ‘So, when are we going to Cyprus? Or hell, we can just stop in Italy and screw Cyprus leg. It’s still a $39 flight to Italy, right? In business class. Right? Babe. Babe?’
Yeah, I’m so stupid.
Or rather, ‘Stoopeedo!’ in the words of my wee fey inner voice.
