OK, so here we are in Fort Myers, Florida…

…and I was even thinking about going swimming (which to me is rank heresy, but it’s hot here and the scenery at the pool looked inviting), but it started thunderbooming right after lunch and it doesn’t look like it’s going to stop anytime soon.
The day did not start in a promising way. We somehow managed to get to the airport 45 minutes before our flight; got read the riot act for almost missing the baggage cutoff; spent 10 minutes as guests of TSA with several hundred of our closest fellow citizens (because, even though there are like eight stations, only four of them were manned, and one of them was exclusively for the use of seasoned citizens with disabilities…and this despite the fact that there were sh*tloads of TSA standing around with their thumb up their collective butt the whole time); and had the SLOWEST TSA agent in Creation manning the X-ray machine.
On the other hand, we got on the plane with minutes to spare, sat in our nice front-row business class seats that Sally upgraded us to last night, and had a delightful flight to RSW. Michelle the flight attendant was funny, helpful, and beautiful. She gave us Biscoffs. (She did not have any bourbon. Damn it.)
We then arrived at RSW, collected our bags, walked across the street to car rentals, got ourselves a nice Chevy Impala*, and drove out to Sanibel. We did not cross the bridge, we are at the Sanibel Harbour Marriott Resort and Spa on the mainland side of the bay.
Where, when we checked in, we got upgraded to a suite for the same price as the room we were already getting cheap because Sally is attending (and presenting at) a symposium here. (We are also getting our meals free for the same reason.)
Other than the fact that I have to work today, tomorrow, and half a day Friday, this trip has turned into a rather nice little getaway. Even if the 20oz Diet Pepsis are $2.50 in the shop downstairs.
Friday we’ll head for Naples.
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* The incredibly cute agent (who had previously tried to upgrade me to an SUV for only $5 more per day; sorry but I prefer cars) said, “We have either an Impala or a Malibu.” I thought about it for a moment. She added, “The Impala is a little bigger, the Malibu is, well, a little more sporty.”
I looked at her and said, “I’m fifty years old. I don’t need sporty.” (I did grin a bit as I said it.)
She laughed, and said, “Well, then it’s the Impala then!”
I did have my heart set on a Nissan Altima but they didn’t have any. Damn it.