• SkyBump, our pioneering new in-flight fare-hike program.
• On landing, if you haven’t finished sucking your complimentary throat lozenge, please stick it on the armrest for the next passenger.
• Try our groundbreaking new In-Flight Meal Insurance: pay a small fee and you won’t be served an in-flight meal.
• Membership in our After-Dark Club entitles you to use of a flashlight, for reading and avoiding nasty tumbles in the aisle.
On top of all this, our fleet’s recent switch to Liberian registry means no more cumbersome seat belts, life vests, or oxygen masks and an end to those boring preflight demonstrations. Jittery fliers needn’t worry, though; they can join our exclusive Survivors’ Club and rent a personal Air Troubleshooter Kit (fire-extinguisher deposit extra).
Spiraling senior-airline-executive compensation costs have challenged us to find ways of effectively boosting revenues while lowering service levels. By cinching the money belt even tighter, we have found that we can better serve the most important people of all: our shareholders. Accordingly, new profit requirements dictate that children under five be carried in the overhead compartments on all flights. Remember: Deposit ten dollars in nickels and set the time lock before bolting the compartment door shut. And, on the ground, we’ve simplified procedures dramatically, eliminating preflight passenger check-in service and seat selection. With our new AirSprint feature, all ticketed passengers in the departure lounge are invited to race for the jetway when the buzzer sounds. Passengers will be reassured to know that costly counter personnel have been transferred to such urgent duties as siphoning gas from cars in the parking lot to fuel our air fleet and filling in for those unionized flight mechanics who are always calling in sick.
I am also happy to report that our flight schedules are being continuously overhauled to minimize passenger convenience and to help our board members travel more easily to their favorite resorts and spas. For example, Santa Barbara has been added to our nonstop Nantucket–Hobe Sound–Nice–Columbus, Ohio route. Next spring will mark the inauguration of our nonstop annual Sioux Falls–Beijing Flight No. 0. (Return flights are in the advanced let’s-consider-it stage.) And, as you know, we have just announced new partnerships with BulgAir, ParaguAir, and Air Eire, insuring that international travelers will have the opportunity to change planes three times on even the shortest routes. With the recent leasing of our hub to Wal-Mart, ours is now the world’s first true “all-spoke” airline.
On a final note, immediately after your aircraft took off today the International Brotherhood of Airport Runway Pavers, Scrapers, and Stripers declared a wildcat strike against this airline, and therefore your plane cannot land at any airport in North America. Be assured that management will continue to bargain in good faith while seeking alternative landing sites in the nearest friendly country—but we cannot and will not be blackmailed by exorbitant landing fees that make a mockery of our policy of fiscal restraint. So please stow all loose articles and bring your seat to the full upright position.
2005
JONATHAN STERN
THE LONELY PLANET GUIDE TO MY APARTMENT
ORIENTATION
My Apartment’s vast expanse of unfurnished space can be daunting at first, and its population of one difficult to communicate with. After going through customs, you’ll see a large area with a couch to the left. Much of My Apartment’s “television viewing” occurs here, as does the very occasional making out with a girl (see “Festivals”). To the north is the food district, with its colorful cereal boxes and antojitos, or “little whims.”
WHAT TO BRING
A good rule of thumb is “If it’s something you’ll want, you have to bring it in yourself.” This applies to water, as well as to toilet paper and English-language periodicals. Most important, come with plenty of cash, as there’s sure to be someone with his hand out. In My Apartment, it’s axiomatic that you have to grease the wheels to make the engine run.
WHEN TO GO
The best time to travel to My Apartment is typically after most people in their twenties are already showered and dressed and at a job. Visits on Saturdays and Sundays before 2 P.M. are highly discouraged, and can result in lengthy delays at the border (see “Getting There and Away”).
LOCAL CUSTOMS
The population of My Apartment has a daily ritual of bitching, which occurs at the end of the workday and prior to ordering in food. Usually, meals are taken during reruns of Stargate Atlantis. Don’t be put off by impulsive sobbing or unprovoked rages. These traits have been passed down through generations and are part of the colorful heritage of My Apartment’s people. The annual Birthday Meltdown (see “Festivals”) is a tour de force of recrimination and self-loathing, highlighted by fanciful stilt-walkers and dancers wearing hand-sewn headdresses.
HEALTH
Rabies and hepatitis have almost completely been eradicated from My Apartment, owing to an intensive program of medication and education. However, travelers must still be wary of sexually transmitted diseases. While abstinence is the only certain preventative, it is strenuously not endorsed by the My Apartment government. Condoms and antibiotics are available on most evenings (see “Medical Services”).
SOCIETY & CULTURE
The inhabitants of My Apartment tend to be insecure and combative. This is likely the result of living under the thumb of a series of illegitimate dictators (see “History”) that have dominated the citizens in recent years. Since the Breakup of 2004 and the ensuing electoral reforms, the situation has become more democratic.
WOMEN TRAVELERS
Solo female travelers are often subjected to excessive unwanted male attention. Normally, these men only want to talk to you, but their entreaties can quickly become tiresome. Don’t be afraid to be rude. Even a mild polite response can be perceived as an expression of interest. The best approach is to avoid eye contact, always wear a bra, and talk incessantly about your “fiancé, Neil.”
DANGERS & ANNOYANCES
The ongoing economic recession has led to a large increase in petty crime. For the most part, this is limited to the “borrowing” of personal items and the occasional accidental disappearance of the neighbor’s newspaper. However, the U.S. Department of State has issued a warning about several common cons—such as the “I’m out of small bills” scam, typically perpetrated when the delivery guy arrives.
VOLUNTEER ORGANIZATIONS
Various international agencies can place volunteers in projects working on areas such as job training, doing my laundry, election monitoring, developing opportunities for young women, running to the deli for me, and therapeutic massage.
THINGS TO SEE & DO
A ten-foot walk to the non-working fireplace brings musically inclined visitors to the popular collection of novelty records, which includes Leonard Nimoy Sings. The north-facing section of My Apartment is divided into two districts. In the lively Bedroom District, the excellent drawer of snapshots of ex-girlfriends naked is a good way to gain a deeper understanding of the history of the people, and is open for guided tours on most Saturdays between 2 A.M. and 3 A.M. The Western Quarter is home to the bathtub with one working spa jet, in which the recreation commissioner of My Apartment plans to hold an international Jell-O wrestling tournament in the spring of 2007.
PLACES TO EAT
Tourists often flock to the salvaged wooden telephone-cable spool in front of the TV as a convenient dining spot. More adventurous eaters might try standing over the sink, as the locals do. If you’re willing to venture off the beaten track, there’s balancing your plate on the arm of the couch or using the toilet lid as a makeshift table.
NIGHT LIFE
The music on offer tends toward late-seventies disco recordings, but they are sometimes embellished with impromptu live vocal performances. There was once a cockfight in My Apartment, though it was unplanned and will likely never happen again (see “Law Enforcement”).
SPORTS & OUTDOOR ACTIVITIES
The air-ho
ckey table probably still works.
EXCURSIONS
A short trip in almost any direction will bring travelers to one of many unique Starbucks outlets. Or try one of the nightly walking tours to the sidewalk in front of the brownstone across the street to watch that redhead getting out of the shower with her curtains open. And tourists are often sent around the corner to visit the ATM machine in order to stock up for the rigorous financial demands of a trip to My Apartment.
MULE RENTAL
Mules can be rented by the hour or the day and are situated near the main closet. Prices vary with the season and it’s best to reserve in advance, since My Apartment’s stable of twenty-six mules books up fast. They may not be the quickest form of transportation, but they provide a wonderful way to see My Apartment up close.
WILDLIFE
The dog’s name is Sadie. Don’t touch her.
2006
GEORGE SAUNDERS
ASK THE OPTIMIST!
DEAR Optimist:
My husband, who knows very well that I love nothing more than wearing bonnets, recently bought a convertible. He’s always doing “passive-aggressive” things like this. Like once, after I had all my teeth pulled, he bought a big box of Cracker Jacks. Another time, when I had very serious burns over ninety percent of my body, he tricked me into getting a hot-oil massage, then tripped me so that I fell into a vat of hydrochloric acid. I’ve long since forgiven him for these “misunderstandings,” but, tell me, is there a way I can be “optimistic” about this “bonnet” situation?
Mad Due to No More Bonnets
Cleveland, Ohio
Dear Mad:
You can still wear bonnets while riding in a convertible! You will just need to have more of them to start with! What I recommend? Buy a large number of bonnets, place them in the car, begin driving! When one blows off, put on another from your enormous stockpile! And just think of all the happiness you will create in your wake, as people who cannot afford bonnets scurry after your convertible, collecting your discards! Super!
Dear Optimist:
Upon returning from vacation, we found our home totally full of lemons. I mean totally. The cat even had one in its mouth. What do you recommend?
Sourpuss
Seattle, Wash.
Dear Sourpuss:
That is a tough one! What I recommend is, when life gives you lemons: (1) Buy a bunch of Hefty bags! (2) Fill the Hefty bags with lemons! (3) Lug the bags to the curb! And (4) Call a certified waste-disposal contractor to haul away the pile of lemons now rotting in the sun! Before long, like magic, your home will be lemon-free—and you can celebrate by going out and having something cold to drink! And don’t forget to give Kitty a jaw massage!
Dear Optimist:
My wife is a terrific artist—except when it comes to me! Whenever she paints me, my legs are half the length of my torso, my face looks like the face of a frog, my feet are splayed outward unattractively like the feet of some hideous reptile, and I have a smug, pinched look on my face. Anyone else she paints, they look exactly like themselves. I pretend not to notice, but recently, at my wife’s one-woman show, I could tell our friends were discussing this, and I felt embarrassed. How might I have taken this in a more optimistic way?
Hurt But Hopeful
Topeka, Kans.
Dear Hurt But:
After receiving your letter, I sent a private investigator to your home with a camera! And guess what! Have you looked in the mirror lately? Your legs are squat, you have the face of a frog, your feet are reptilian, and you do look smug and pinched! So not to worry! Your wife is a terrific artist!
Dear Optimist:
When I go to the zoo, I feel so sad. All those imprisoned animals sitting in their own feces. What do you suggest?
Animal Lover
Pasadena, Calif.
Dear Animal:
What I suggest is, stop going to the zoo! But, should you find yourself tricked into going to a zoo, think about it as follows: All those animals, coated with their own poop, pacing dry grassless trenches in their “enclosures,” have natural predators, and might very well be dead if they were still in the wild! So ask yourself: Would I rather be dead, or coated in my own poop, repetitively pacing a dry grassless trench? I certainly know what my answer would be!
Dear Optimist:
A few years ago, I inadvertently declared war on the wrong country. Also, I perhaps responded a little slowly to a terrible natural disaster. Also, those of my friends who are not under indictment seem to be deserting me. Also, the organization of which I am in charge is all of a sudden facing a huge crushing debt. And I still have almost two years left in my job. Advice?
In Somewhat Over My Head
Washington, D. C.
Dear In Somewhat:
Stay the course! Admit to nothing! Disparage your enemies! Perhaps declare another war? Do you have any openings in your Cabinet? Sounds like you could use a little Optimism! What would you pay? Have your people call my people!
Dear Optimist:
Recently, my wife left me for another man. Not only that, the other man was bigger, better-looking, and richer than me, and—at least according to my wife—better-endowed and with a nicer singing voice and less back hair. To tell the truth, I am feeling somewhat “pessimistic” about this situation. Advice?
Depressed Because My Penis Is Smaller,
Relative to That of My Wife’s New and
More Handsome Lover
Brighton, Mich.
Dear Small-Penis:
Why not try to look on the bright side! At least he is not more articulate than you—
Dear Optimist:
Oh, yes, he is. I forgot that.
Dear Small-Penis:
No worries! I believe in you! She is clearly not the right woman for you, and by accepting this—
Dear Optimist:
Actually, Ralph speaks five languages and is just finishing up a translation from the Sanskrit of an ancient text on social deportment. And Judy is the right woman for me, I just know it. I could never love anyone else. I’d rather die.
Dear Small-Penis:
Wow, no wonder she left you! You are so negative! Also somewhat pigheaded!
Dear Optimist:
I know, right? That’s exactly what Judy always said. Oh, what’s the point of living anymore? I’m just going to take these fast-acting suicide pills and … and … and …
Dear Small-Penis:
You know, Small-Penis, you don’t seem to understand Optimism at all! What is the essential quality of the Optimist? He is non-Pessimistic! What is the essential quality of the Pessimist? He thinks too much, then gets all depressed and paralyzed! Like you, Small-Penis! Me, I prefer to think as little as possible and stay peppy! Peppy and active! If something is bothering me, I think of something else! If someone tells me some bad news? I ignore it! Like, I knew this one guy, very Optimistic, who was being eaten by a shark and did not even scream but just kept shouting, “It’s all for the best!” Now, that was an Optimist! In the end, he was just as dead, but he hadn’t brought everybody else down! What a great guy! I really miss him! No, I don’t! It’s all good! I don’t miss Todd at all, even though we were briefly lovers and I’ve never felt so completely inhabited, if you know what I mean! So valued! But no biggie! I’m certainly not going to start moping about it! Right? Right, Small-Penis? Hello! Oh, well, I guess he’s off moping somewhere! Next letter!
Dear Optimist:
I am an emaciated single mother living in a vast famine-affected region with my four starving children. Rebels frequently sweep down from the hills with automatic weapons and kill many of us and violate and abuse the others. All our men are dead or have been driven away, and there is no food or fresh water to be had. I would be very appreciative of any advice you might be able to offer us.
Not Altogether Hopeful
Africa
Dear Hopeful:
Thanks so much for writing! Perhaps it would be of some consolation for me to te
ll you what a vast minority you are in! There are, relative to the world’s population, very few people “in your boat”! Most of the rest of us are not starving or in danger, and, in fact, many of us do not even know that you are starving and in danger, and are just out here leading rich, rewarding lives, having all kinds of fun! Does that help? I hope so! And remember—trouble can’t last forever! Soon, I expect, your difficulties will be over!
Dear Optimist:
Recently, my father-in-law backed over me with his car. When I complained, he backed over me again. When, from beneath the wheels of his car, I complained again, he got out of his vehicle, poured molten metal over me, hauled me to a public park, mounted me on a pedestal, and placed at my feet a plaque reading “SLOTH.” What gives? I am trying to think about this incident in an optimistic way but am having some difficulties, as my chin itches and I am unable to reach it with my bronze-encrusted arms.
I Love Parks but, Hey, This Is Ridiculous
Fort Myers, Fla.
Dear Loves Parks:
Oh, really? Bronze-encrusted arms? Then how did you write that letter?
Dear Optimist:
Uh, one of my arms is not totally bronze-encrusted?
Dear Loves Parks:
Then why don’t you scratch your chin with that arm?
Disquiet, Please! Page 31