Here's a holiday chuckle for you:

It's no secret that I really, really don't like to travel.  I don't mind being elsewhere (although home is always the best place), I just don't like the process of getting there and back.  And every trip, it seems, has a story.  This one has a Real Slap-Me-Upside-the-Head WTF Moment in it.

I'm not one of those who fixate on frequent flyer miles, affinity programs and all that.  The LAST thing I want is a free ticket anywhere, although on second thought seat upgrades would be nice. I've actually never had the pleasure of sitting in the fat seats up front.  I always wonder how some of the people I see up there get those seats.

I do have my preferences in "travel partners" (JetBlue, Budget and Hampton Inn) but if there's a more convenient/cheaper/faster way, I usually go that route.  As a result, my travel receipts are a mish-mosh of lots of different brands, colors and flavors.

I tend to book through Travelocity, and when buying a plane ticket their deals on hotels and rental cars booked at the same time can be pretty good.  For this particular trip, Enterprise had the best deal on rental cars, so I booked an economy model.  I usually do this because I've never actually been given an econocar, so why pay more? Plus I'd only be driving about 50 miles total so who cares.

...if there's a more convenient/cheaper/faster way, I usually go that route.  As a result, my travel receipts are a mish-mosh of lots of different brands, colors and flavors.

On travel days (it's almost always a full day to get from Vermont to anywhere), I put up my defenses, dull my senses and just say to myself, "This day is gonna suck, let's just do it."  But wandering around in this desensitized state can sometimes rise up and bite me on the arse.

Last week I had to travel to Orlando for a meeting at the Mother Ship, flying from BTV through LGA to MCO.  I left home at 10:00AM, drove an hour to BTV, did the flying thing and staggered out of the plane in Orlando around 7:00PM.  All told, not a bad experience.

OK, rental car.  Which agency did I use? Whipped out my new iPhone (yeah!) and checked my Travelocity app (yeah, baby!).  Enterprise, that's right.  OK, they have green in their sign, so I wandered down the 1000 yard rental counter at MCO looking for green. There's National, also green, but I'm looking for Enterprise, which is less green.  OK, there it is way down there (of course).

Stand in line, notice the self-serve kiosk and try that. Didn't recognize me. Back in line.  Heard the (one) agent telling the customer ahead of me that they were overloaded on minivans so they'd hug him if he took one of them instead of the scarce econocars he had reserved. Hmmm, I'm gonna get me a minivan.

Got up to the counter (it was the middle initial that screwed up the kiosk ID), did the paperwork, told me the same drill about minivans. "Just go across to the garage, make a quick right and we're right there. They'll give you your paperwork and let you pick out a vehicle."

So I walk across, take a quick right and look for green.  Guy Smiley comes out and welcomes me, says he'll walk me to my car. "Do you have paperwork?" Nope, the guy inside at the counter said you'd give it to me out here, and that a minivan wouldn't be a problem.

So I walk across, take a quick right and look for green.  Guy Smiley comes out and welcomes me, says he'll walk me to my car...

He walked me over to a row of Dodge Caravans, so I picked me out a nice new red one, threw my stuff in, figured out how the key worked, and drove to the exit gate to check out.

The woman there asked for my paperwork. "The guy inside said I'd get it out here."  OK, what's your name. McCormick. After a few keystrokes she asks me to spell it for her.  By this time there are about five cars behind me and I could sense them all getting pissed.  

"I don't see you in here." Has to be, I said, the guy at the counter just checked me in.  "Not here. Do you have a confirmation number?" Sh*t, I thought, lemme get out my 'reservation'.  Of course there's hardly any cell signal in the bowels of this garage, so it took about five minutes for me to pull up my Travelocity confirmation.  By then I could see steam coming out of the windows of the cars behind me.

"OK, here it is. Enterprise, Confirmation # blah blah blah."

She looked at me with a "you moron" on her face.  "This is National.  Enterprise is over there."

My forehead hit the top of the steering wheel as I melted down into my seat and broke into an embarrassed sweat. WTF, I muttered to myself. Yagottabekiddinme.

Of course I'm looking at the tire-puncturing Jaws of Death ahead of me and five or six cars behind.  No problem, she said, I'll wave them all back so your can get out of here.

Guess I wasn't the first idiot she had ever checked out.

Moral of the story, if there is one: If you're gonna zone out when you travel, zone back in far enough in advance to avoid exposing yourself as the idiot that you sometimes can be.

And, all greens are not the same.