Moot Thoughts & Musings

I'm in Philly right now for a few days. I had my requisite 32 weeks appointment this morning. The practice is nice and friendly. There are only four doctors. It'll be fine. It wasn't as nice as the clinic I've been going to, but it did have a homey feel. But like I've said, I'm not expecting much. I am just so thankful we still get insurance coverage in-network up here. I think I will go with a midwife for the next kid, though; it doesn't seem worth it to trek around to the doctor. Baby is doing great. He's turned head-down. I thought so, as his hiccups are always way down low. And I stick close to rest-room vicinity.

Flying up was something of an adventure. I've packed a couple suitcases of stuff that we'll want for the summer and checked one of them and my cello yesterday. I had a carry-on suitcase for the weekend and my bookbag, which in normal life isn't bad at all, and in pregnant life was only a bit awkward. I had a 4 hour layover in St. Louis, so I decided to splurge and get one of those smarte carts to put this carry-on and bookbag one, so that I could walk around easily. It was a splurge, though, because these things cost $3 nowadays!! (ok, so I'm cheap.) After scoping out the terminal, I decided to go to Chili's for lunch, since they had a restaurant in the terminal. I figured that the $6 hamburger and fries there was as good as anything I could've found anyway, and it would kill time having to sit down for a proper meal.

As I came up to the restaurant, I saw that they had a sign posted prohibiting smarte carts, understandably, since space was limited. Before going in, I asked the hostess since they had this policy then, could I leave the cart by the rail and come back to it. She assured me most confidently that it would still be there. So I parked the cart, took my stuff in the restaurant, and had a decent lunch relaxedly and peacefully. When I came out, though, the cart was gone. So I inquired of the hostess as to its whereabouts, and she apologetically said that a security person must have collected it. I asked if she could help me get it back since she had assured me that it would have still been there. (It was $3 after all!!) She got a manager, who got a higher manager. I explained the problem calmly and politely: that I had inquired about the safety of my cart, had been led to believe it would still be there, and would not have eaten there if there was a problem with leaving it by the rail, and could they please help me obtain another? This manager was a mid-60s man who was very rude. We had a huge, big long argument. He said that it wasn't the restaurant's responsibility, because it was airport space. To me this wasn't the primary question; I was just asking for restitution for misinformation that their restaurant had provided me. He made the analogy that what if I left my car in the street, asked the store I was patronizing if it was ok, and my car got towed. It wouldn't be the store's fault, because I had left it in the street. I pointed out to the guy that this was a false analogy, because the street is conventional space with conventional rules, and the rail outside the restaurant in an airport was unconventional space, and when I enquired of the rules, I was given the wrong ones. It wasn't a question of responsibility, rather it was a question of helping me since they had inconvenienced me, and I would've avoided this inconvenience by not eating there if I had been given the right information.

In the end, the guy gave me another $3, so I won. But I was kind of annoyed, because in the end, he still didn't understand the key issue and was still grumbling about how it wasn't their responsibility. And what was $3 to them? It was everything for my pregnant body; it is obvious that I'm beaucoup pregnant at this time, why couldn't he have been nicer and more understanding? I was very polite the whole time, and thanked him kindly as I left with my $3. Oh well. I was proud of myself, though, for sticking to my ground. I felt like crying, but I couldn't find a little corner to cry in. So I went to Starbucks where they had a happy CD playing, and I nursed a latte, pretended to read Hugh of St. Victor, and felt cheerier.