Monday, 21 March 2011

A reservation forgets to be reserved

We slayed the Kraken (pictured) on Saturday night with fellow DC residents Curt and Lisa and even got yelled at by the Capitol Police for open container drinking on the Mall - just like naughty teenagers.  Hank, Tock and I then spent Sunday recovering in the spring sunshine at Mount Vernon, the Virginia waterfront home of George Washington.  It was another one of those days when I realise just how attached I already am to this beautiful capital city, so happily located between the rolling countryside of Virginia and Maryland and the Potomac river.  But a slight chink appeared in the otherwise impenetrable armour of US customer service when Hank reserved a large SUV, only to find out at the car rental lot that the reservation did not in fact mean that they had actually reserved the car for him.  Strangely, it seems a car rental reservation in the USA puts the rental company under no obligation whatsoever.  It just means the customer is obliged to visit the rental office at the agreed time and fork out the same amount regardless of what size vehicle happens to be available.  Now for me, from a UK perspective, that is pretty serious liberty taking.  We may not have the greatest track record on customer service but when a Brit takes a reservation, crikey chaps, we honour it!  At least Seinfeld understands my frustration:


Fortunately, in lieu of the SUV, Hank managed to secure a Jeep Patriot, big enough for me, the dog, a month's groceries, three pot plants, four 72-hole seed trays and two large bags of compost.  Garden supplies, yes, because I'm planting up for spring.  That last bastion of the stay-at-home wife! It's like being retired.  Perhaps I should do some pensioners' bus tours.  Watch out, readers, the blog which you have come to know and love for it's dog poo-related content could become a geriatric gardening journal.  

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