Excuse me, dahrlings, but...

Where Do All The B Listers Go?

I was having a bit of a TIFF tiff with a surly guard dog last night over the A list. Apparently I was not on it. I carefully explained that doors open for people such as I – on the list or not – U-N-D-E-R-S-T-A-N-D? He kicked me out on my bony ass.

You see, Pumpkins, there is no in between. You’re in or you’re out. Travel is just as cruel. Do you return phone calls to the ex VP of Big Travel Co. now that he’s selling life insurance? The President turned life coach? Does John Kirk still get stage passes for all his cronies to Tragically OHIP concerts? Are they not the same person? Do they not sweat? So I ask you, dear reader, are we our job? (Don’t scoff. You never know when this question will hit home. Like when you’re at home…)

On another note, I’m sending a valium bouquet to the payload department over at Transat. Those poor dahrlings will need it come December when they have 483 outbound and 301 inbound. Don’t get me wrong, I love segments – a veritable designer line of prêt-a-fly choices to the sun. But I’m thinking the airlines have had a bit more experience in the mix’n match department. If ACV and WJV can do it, so can Transat. Do I hear Sunwing? Will Sunquest cook something up? Stay tuned – I’ve got my ear to the ground on carpets across the city.

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