A couple of weeks ago the Uberlord was taking a vacation in Southern Italy. Capri to be exact. Capri is a beautiful, expensive, rich person’s resort but it isn’t a straightforward place to get to – it involves flying to Naples, getting from the airport to the harbor and transferring to a hydrofoil or ferry then, once arriving on the island, catching a local taxi or shuttle bus to your hotel.
Now armed with this information and a thorough working knowledge of the Uberlord, even the most experienced administrative person would pull hair out and contemplate alcoholism or an expensive drug habit when faced with the daunting prospect of having the man and his equally inept spouse, make this journey unaided. I mean planes AND cars AND boats AND buses? Mon dieu! The possibilities for bad things happening during that are pretty darn high.
We’re talking about a man who is used to five star luxury and being pampered and catered to at every stage. He certainly isn’t armed to deal with economy flights from London to Naples and a public hydrofoil, for God’s sake. I mean those are transportation means that involve traveling with common people like you or me, ripe with the cooties and foreign germs? Euro germs? And you’ve seen the infomercials – everything “EURO” is bigger and better.
I prayed he’d have lost control of his faculties and accept this method and that somewhere in the middle he’d get confused, forget all about the hydrofoil, try to swim and get eaten by a shark.
Surprisingly, he didn’t have a coniption fit, he merely frowned into his coffee and questioned the ‘no first class and do i really have to slum it this much?’ thing. He then provided the expected Uberlordian reaction by asking me to look into more “exclusive” transportation.
Hence began a day of researching alternate means of delivering the giant ass and his lady to his destination without the aid of grubby common types like us.
I made him a nice short list of options which were basically like this: A motorboat company who would pick him and Mrs. Uberlord up at the airport, take him in a nice car to the harbor at which point they would put him on a private speed boat with champagne and a personal tour guide and would whisk him off breezily to the Island where another very nice car would cart them to their rather expensive spa and hotel. Sounds quite lovely doesn’t it?
And it should for $600 per person one way, don’t you think?
The Uberlord liked this option quite a bit. Private boat? Butler service for the bags? Champagne en route? How very exclusive. How very him. He liked it right down till he reached the bit about the $600.
“Guv’ner…” he called snootily. “I know I make a nice living but not THAT nice! Please find something more economical.”
This is a man who is rich as shit and who insists on a $800 a night hotel in London every other week, dinners that cost more than I make in a two week period and first class travel absolutely everywhere or he will sulk and refuse to do it. Naturally though, when something occurs where he has to pay for it himself he manages to lower his demands somewhat. Basically if the company isn’t paying he’s not paying.
So I called his hotel who agreed they could transfer him from the airport to the harbor, provide him with a Hydrofoil ticket then personally put him on the shuttle on the island, while having a minion carry his bags. For $200.
“Much better!” said the Uberlord, satisfied although somewhat miffed at the hotel’s lack of offer of a private yacht with wet bar and totally oblivious to the fact this was pretty much the same option as the cheapo “slumming it” one I gave him at the start.
The moral of this story is, the Uberlord is a giant, expectant ass and I should’ve put him in an Italian cab (ha!) and made him take a row boat to the island at which point his luxury hotel would’ve mysteriously turned into the Italian equivalent of a Motel 6.
I always think of these things too goddamn late.