My Day at Groupon or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Groupon.
I had a nostalgic feeling lingering in my gut as I lay sleepless atop a futon the night before my trip to Chicago. It was reminiscent of the many Christmas Eves of yesteryear. Lying awake, excited with the anticipation that I might finally get that Big Wheel, but also terrified by the fact that at any moment a Fat Man with a beard could walk into my bedroom. Yep, this is how I felt, all the way up until 6 a.m. I was ready and off to the airport.
I arrived an hour early, had no bags, and immediately went to the auto kiosk. After typing in confirmation numbers and birthdates, I was ready for my ticket… but there was a delay. The screen went back to the start menu. Feeling that even robots should be aloud to make a mistake every now and then, I gave it a second try.
Same result.
It was time to interact with an actual human being. After waiting in line, I finally reached the desk, and handed the guy my confirmation email. He typed the same info into his robot, gave the screen a curious look, typed some more, and then gave a very confused, “Huh?”
This was not something I wished to hear. So he followed it up with more disconcerting news…. I wasn’t getting on that plane.
I pleaded with the husky man to no promising result. Groupon wasn’t open for another hour. My plane was leaving. All I could do was sit, and sulk. After a few moments of self-loathing and soft weeping, my depression slowly began to fade. As usual, it was quickly replaced with paranoia. “What if this is part of the interview?” I thought to myself. Perhaps I had underestimated the power of Groupon. “Maybe they wanna see what I’m willing to do, to get there.” I suddenly felt like Michael Douglas in that Fincher movie. “How long was the reach of the Groupon Empire?”
Suddenly, across the Terminal I noticed Pilot enter the men’s room. I began wondering how blunt an object had to be to induce unconsciousness. Filled with a maddening determination I stood up and headed towards the lavatory. It was then, about half way across the terminal, while feeling the weight of a metal stanchion, that I glanced out the window. On the horizon darkness lingered, a distant ominous storm slowly approaching the city. I released the pole focusing solely on the angry clouds. Something about it made me reach a painful realization. This was no sadistic test, this was fate, and it just wasn’t meant to be.
Having surely disappointed my friends and family, plus not having a ride home, I walked to the top floor of the airports parking garage. Being so early, the top level was empty. Just concrete, sky, and me. I slowly walked to the furthest edge and rested my hands on the rail. I stared off into the approaching storm contemplating life, love, and jerk websites. I looked down to the earth six stories beneath me. “How could someone so high up, feel so low?” I muttered.
Suddenly from behind there was the sound of an engine accelerating. I glanced over my shoulder to see an Airport Security S.U.V. quickly approaching. It squealed to a halt just a few feet away. The driver jumped out. With a concerned tone he screamed, “Sir, what are you doing!”
Apparently they had been watching me since my arrival. I guess showing up to an airport with no bags, a one-day trip, and looking like me, is a good way to get flagged. They had seen everything, the denial, the pleading, the sulking, the tears, and then finally my walk to the edge. After convincing them this was all a misunderstanding and I was actually a very chipper lad, they left and I went back into the airport.
In retrospect, I probably could have negotiated my life for an air ticket.
So, to make an already long and grouponless story short, Groupon fixed everything, and within six hours, I was at the Groupon H.Q. in Chicago Illinois.
After getting a tour, being treated like a celebrity, meeting a ton of REALLY cool people, and then getting interrogated like a criminal, I was given my task… Go forth into the Windy City, wallet-less and solely armed with a fist full of Groupons. Due to the time restraint, as an added challenge, I had to exchange my Groupon for “Two Free Hotdogs” for the most awesome item I could possibly procure.
I was off.
My first destination was the observatory deck of the John Hancock building. I used to always get him confused with that Benedict Arnold guy, but considering Hancock had a building and all Benedict got was some eggs, I figured this must be the good one. My first GOOD surprise of the day came when I found that my Groupon wasn’t just one trip up, but in fact an annual pass, meaning that for the next Year me and a guest of my choosing can go to the top anytime, and as many times as I want. Excellent Bonus!
Once acquiring my membership, I entered the elevator and was greeted by a female voice. The voice was in fact the elevator itself, or as I fondly nicknamed her Ellie. Ellie told me little about the building during our ride. It might sound strange, but I’m pretty sure she was flirting with me. Surprisingly, this was enjoyable. If elevators did this more often, I wouldn’t ride the escalator as much.
Upon exiting Ellie I stepped out only take a step back. I suddenly realized just how high up I had traveled. It was hard to believe that early that very day I was marveling at how tall six stories felt. Now here I was, at the top of an ear popping hundred plus skyscraper. It was awe inspiring to say the least. I circled the floor taking in every possible angel of Chicago. I came at the perfect time and was privileged enough to witness a high-rise sunset. It was simply breathtaking.
Not sure if it was aloud or not, I made sure the coast was clear then leaned over the rail firmly pressing my forehead against the glass. That’s when I had an epiphany. There were a million people down there, going about there lives, not knowing I was above looking down upon them. Just ten minutes ago, I was one of those ants. Honestly, I feel like I’m the center of the universe. It’s like everything lines up perfectly to either make my life suck or rock. As a person I sometimes forget that everyone around me probably feels the exact same way about him or herself.
“How can someone so high up, be so deep.”
I pulled my head away from the glass then saw it. To most it was just another greasy forehead print, but to me, it was my signature, my sign, my mark, that I was here.
Realizing that I had never urinated at this altitude, I took a leak then headed to my next destination.
Oh Crud! Times up!
Ok Fast forward version.
Next I went to a restaurant named “OTOM”. It was pretty fancy but I still managed to order Chicken and Waffles. There I traded my Hotdogs to the host, in exchange he lied and told the staff it was my birthday, essential turning two hotdogs into a Carrot Sorbet and a free Birthday Wish. Worth checking out, but I’d recommend the Pork Belly over the Chick and Waff.
So, what did I learn today?
# 1: If someone buys you a plane ticket, you should probably have their cell phone number.
# 2: The John Hancock Elevator is a sly minx.
# 3: In some circles whispering “Hey, do you like hotdogs?” is considered a come on.
# 4: Even if this crazy thing doesn’t work out for me, I at least made a few new friends.
I sincerely thank you Groupon.
Burger