Can Am Story

by Oliver Rill

  “That is all very interesting, but I hear a ‘but’.” He said and waved to the stewardess to refill our glasses. He passed her a folded note and winked at her. She shouldn’t tell anyone.

  “There is a ‘but’ of course. I don’t earn very much money, which I should do at my time of life. I should also have a secure position at my age. I should have a career path mapped out for the rest of my life, or at least an idea of how to start one, shall we say.”

  He asked me what I liked doing best so far and why I hadn’t stuck with it when I told him it was the car rentals. He then also wanted to know what exactly it was about car hire that I had liked so much.

  “I think you were a good worker. No wonder that Sandy Miller wanted you in America.” I had told him that the former CEO from budget wanted to fetch me to the US and how that had happened.

  “You are kind. Thank you. It just never worked out.”

  “It’s never too late. I know that Germans don’t like it when someone changes jobs frequently and also into such different areas. We see it differently. People that have been around come with lots of experience – more experience than someone who, maybe only worked in one company for 20 years. Those people are blind and don’t see what other firms can probably do differently and even better.”

  “So, enough now from me. What about you?” I wanted to know.

  “Oh, I am involved in company investments … rather boring. That’s why I had to go to a meeting in Frankfurt. What else? I live in L.A. have a wife and a daughter, who is all grown up. Anything else? I play golf when I have time. But back to you. Have you ever worked in the airline industry? It’s a bit like car rentals – just technically a bit more complicated.” I had to smile.

  “How many people can this plane take?”

  “There are about 500 people on board here, why?” he asked with interest.

  “You think it’s less complicated to rent 500 cars?”

  “If you have 500 customers, it doesn’t necessarily mean 500 cars.”

  “If I have 500 customers, it is 600 cars … Ok some of them will be passengers, so we will be back at 500 more or less.”

  “A C-Check is something else. The plane is taken almost completely apart and then put back together again.”

  “How many times does that happen – per 500 passengers?! But yes, I agree, that is complicated. Fitting and ordering new tires; daily oil and air pressure checks; damage checks; valeting; general breakdowns; … there is quite a lot going on. But you don’t need experts for it, that’s true. Mechanics, workshops, cleaners … that’s enough.”

  The meal came. I was keen to see how it was and … I wasn’t so … “How is your food?”, I wanted to know.

  “Oh no, I want to hear what you make of it first.” Said Ad. Ok that was strange, but if he insisted …

  “The meal itself looks good. It smells good, it is well cooked. But I find this tray … you know, the small area holding Salad, hors d’oeuvre, main course and dessert – four courses – that’s a bit much. I don’t know if its logistically possible, but couldn’t they at least serve the salad and starter together and then the main course and dessert? It can’t be a sign of the times for this flight, can it? I mean, you probably know it better than me – and even I have a good idea what it was like to fly then. Where people put on their best clothes to fly. Today you travel in jogging pants and worn out trainers, because it is comfortable. “

  Ad … what a strange name, it must be something religious (Adar?!) Ad nodded his head in amusement as I told him my views.

  “Naturally it’s cheaper to put it all on one plate”, he laughed. “They automatically save on meat or fish, because the plate isn’t that big. That’s one reason, the other is that they would have more plates to deal with. That adds to the weight and having them delivered also costs money. It’s a question of logistics and costs. Generally though, you are completely right.”

  “Wow, you really know your stuff. Do you have shares in air transport?” I felt like Robert Lemcke, a TV host of a career guessing game show.

  “Yes, I do have an interest in the air industry. Mainly though real estate, insurance but also art, education and a little air industry.”

  “Great. That would be really interesting.” Discussions with artist in the morning, lunch with insurance dealers, and evenings talking about real estate projects … cool! We ordered more wine and I was careful to let him know in advance that I would be having 40 winks after that. That didn’t work. I had to have a ‘proper’ drink before I was allowed to sleep. Gin and tonic wasn’t a good night drink. Campari Orange and ginger… Whisky would be better or a martini, but I was afraid that would knock my socks off.

  I awoke again gradually, my throat was dry from the air in the plane and I looked around for the water bottle.

  “Your girlfriend was up here. She went down again as you were asleep. We spoke for a while - she is nice.”

  “Oh, I will pop down and see how she is doing. First, I must … I am really dry.” I emptied the water in one, then went to the bathroom and down to see Marie.

  “Your neighbor is really nice. I chatted for quite a time with him and you were totally out of it.”

  “The Martini after the Campari and orange that came after the white wine knocked me out completely.”

  Marie laughed at me. She laughed at me! “Did you have a party up there?”

  “Nah, he just said you sleep better and I did. How much longer have we got?” There were still four hours to go … Whoa … An age. “I am going up again. I think I’ll watch a film, then there will just be another two and a half hours to go and then another film and then there will be something to eat and then we will land. That was the plan. A little more wine, I think in between … oh boy … who did we say was driving?”

  “Ah, you are our driver. You have always driven.” Said Marie and … I know, she really doesn’t like driving.

  “Ok, then I will try not to drink any in the terminal at least.”

  Once in my seat again, I saw that Ad was sleeping and was quite glad he was. I could watch a film undisturbed. And really, we had had a long discussion considering we didn’t know each other at all. Even so, I had the feeling that he had tickled more information from me than I from him. So what? He had travelled more than me and was interested in people.

  The food would be here soon. Ad had woken up and was quizzing me again. “If you could do it all again, what would you have done differently?” I had to think about that one.

  “Knowing what I know now, I would have liked to have become a pilot. Simply because I like planes and travelling. I think I might miss the contact with customers though. I like tourists. So perhaps I would be better as a steward? That wouldn’t be very challenging after a while though. I’ll tell you: I always dreamt about being a station manager at Hertz in the airport in Santa Barbara.”

  Ad chuckled. Was I being laughed at again? “Of all the places in the world, why Santa Barbara?”

  “Well, Hertz has a very good platinum service. This platinum service can’t be operated at all airports as it should be. The driver drives the rental car onto the tarmac and picks the customer up. It can be done when Nancy Reagan or Cassandra Pollock or any other platinum customer lands in Santa Barbara.”

  “It is a beautiful city by the sea, you are right.” Agreed Ad. “Unfortunately, too far from L.A.”

  The food came and we continued our discussion about the plane, the flight and then finally we landed. I fetched my rucksack from the overhead cabinet and Ad passed me a card. I should make contact, he wanted to invite me and my girlfriend to dinner, if we had time. I thought that was really awfully nice of him. And to be honest, I was a little curious about how he lived. I would like to do that, and I was sure Marie would too. To see something authentic, not just touristy stuff. “Tomorrow evening would be wonderful. Call me.”

  Ad Bass, no address, but a telephone number. That was strange too. Why no address?

  Entry into the US
of A took almost as long as the flight – at least that’s what it felt like. We had to wait for the rental car, too. We got a black Mustang this time. I remember how last time Marie and I got one the same color as a smurf and I almost refused to get in, but I learnt to love the color during our visit. This time it was more a sober black, almost a little boring. But a Mustang Cabrio is the auto to have in L.A.

  Our hotel: The Z in Hollywood! Marie wanted to splash out and Olaf had found a really good deal which didn’t put too much strain on her wallet. We loaded our bags into the car and Marie nestled down into the passenger seat, while I entered the address into the satnav. After adjusting the seat and mirror, I drove carefully out of the car lot. We passed through some of the smaller roads and then saw the sign for the highway. With a grin I put my foot down, drove up the ramp and joined the slow moving traffic. I didn’t feel confident enough to go right out into the left lane, so we drove sedately with the flow and I told Marie about Ad’s invitation. She found the whole idea quite fun, we just had to mention that she was a vegetarian.

  We were welcomed into a dark, but for that, quite fashionable lobby. Goose pimples told me that the air conditioning was working well. Marie got the key and we went up in the elevator to inspect our rooms on the third floor. I thought it was great. A big bath, a narrow balcony, a small sitting area. All very clean and modern in beige and grey. Marie wanted a different room with a different view, which we were also given. I was a bit embarrassed and didn’t see a reason to complain as our rooms were lovely. However, we moved onto the 8th floor where the view was much nicer, the bath was slightly smaller, but the narrow balcony went right around the corner. The rest of the room, was much the same. We finished unpacking at 7.30.

  “Marie, let’s eat around here and then turn in. I am kaput!” I didn’t hear any objection.

  Daniel had written down his favorite restaurant for me, but that was too far away for tonight. I stuffed down a big burger that was really tasty while Marie nibbled her rabbit food. After two beers we went home. It even sounds different here, I thought. But the wind was soft and warm even at nine p.m. Beautiful. We walked arm in arm to our hotel which luckily wasn’t far. I was tired and content.

  Of course, the next morning I was awake first. Great! I lit a cigarette on the balcony and savored the view. Marie had chosen well. Changing the room for the view had been worth the embarrassment. You could see right across the low level housing to the Pacific. The foliage was a lush green, there was little traffic and the occasional whine of a police or fire siren. I was in L.A. far away from home, I thought as I sucked in a breath of the atmosphere.

  I thought of Ad. Ad Bass without an address, but a telephone number. We should get him and his wife something, but what? A bottle of whisky for him and some flowers for his wife? I didn’t know him well enough to think of something more original. Which whisky had Lufthansa served?!

  Marie came out blinking.

  “I want some coffee … Shall we take a quick shower and go down to breakfast?” I asked her. Marie agreed and we hurried down to breakfast.

  We sat in the garden of the noble and stylish Z Hotel in West Hollywood, drank our coffee and I nibbled a croissant. “Is there anything that we didn’t do last year in L.A.? Is there something that you wanted to see but we didn’t manage?”

  Marie thought about it. “No, I think we managed to see everything here that we wanted to. I fancy hitting the shops. Maybe we will see the chick with the golden cream and we will get the wool pulled over our eyes again.” Marie remembered a past occasion in a mall when together we had gone into a cosmetic store for a free facial and Marie ended up buying creams for a fortune in her enthusiasm.

  “Let’s call Ad from the reception first.”

  “You do that, I just going to back to the room and will be down in a minute, ok? He is your friend after all.” Said Marie, and left me alone.

  I trotted over to the front desk, pushed the card over the counter and asked if I could make a call. The pretty man on reception looked at me strangely, lowered his eyes and dialed. Then he passed the receiver to me and gave me that strange look again before respectfully moving his wheelchair aside to give me a little privacy. Did I have crumbs on my face from breakfast?

  “Ad? Good morning. How is your jetlag?” We spoke briefly as Ad said he didn’t have much time. He would send a car to the hotel at eight, which one was it? … Oh good choice … Ok till … Oh vegetarian, no problem. … Yes till eight then.

  Marie and I went to the same mall we had sought out a couple of times on our last visit. We parked our Mustang in the underground parking lot, which had several levels. Marie took a picture of our position in case we couldn’t find our rented Cabrio again. The mall was huge, with various levels. Some were in the open air with benches; little bushes; a stream and stands where you could get cheap jewelry and cell phone accessories. Kenneth Cole was there; the cosmetic store; and a few other good ones. In the cosmetic store as we both sat on the treatment stools having our faces and décolletage cleansed, a mask smeared over and then toned, I asked where I could buy a good bottle of whisky. I am sure my skin is thankful for the experience as were the girls in the store too, for a bag of creams to the tune of $1,000 that Marie paid without blinking an eye. As someone who carefully considers whether I should purchase a large or small jar of Nivea, this was completely inconceivable.

  I managed to build a small savings over summer. Not as much as I had planned, but enough for a pair of Kenneth Cole shoes.

  The shoes I chose were smart. I would have loved to have bought more, but Kenneth Cole is a designer name and so I had to leave it at one pair. That one pair made me very proud though.

  We were back at the hotel at seven, but unfortunately there wasn’t time for 40 winks. Luckily, I had brought the suit. It was going to be a bit of an adventure as Ad had said he would send a car, leaving us wondering where we were going. Ad himself was also so well dressed, that I took the view that a suit would be more appropriate. A shirt … a tie would be too much, (apart from the fact that I didn’t have one with me) and of course, my beautiful shiny Kenneth Cole shoes must have their first outing. I was pretty sure that we weren’t in for a lot of walking, so I felt quite safe putting them on straight away without breaking them in. Marie had brought a whole load of dresses with her and put one on. Whether I insisted on the heels was a question quickly answered. In high heels, a colorful dress and a large shawl draped over her shoulders, Marie looked … simply ravishing!

  We were in the lobby shortly before eight. I carried the whisky and flowers in a carrier bag. The pretty guy from this morning was still on reception. I smiled at him and asked if he had a home to go to. He laughed and said he hoped so, his shift ended soon and then he let us know that someone was waiting.

  “There is a car waiting for you outside. Have a great evening.”

  We walked out of the door, the porter pointed to the right. A man got out of a black Jaguar (not the newest) and asked me if I was Oliver. He opened the door for Marie and I walked around to back on the other side. I noticed a small sticker on the back: “Californian Airlines.”

  Hmm I hadn’t heard of that one, but there were sure to be many smaller national airlines that I didn’t know.

  I figured the driver was Mexican. He didn’t have an accent but gave me that impression. His conversation was limited to pointing out the sights as we drove. I wanted to know our exact destination. The driver said we are driving to Mr. Bass’ house and we would be there in about 15 minutes.

  As we drove on and I told Marie about a test drive that I once had in a Jaguar but had settled on an S-Class because the costs had been easier to work out and the dealer took both my old BMW and the old Mercedes in part payment. The houses grew more beautiful, the fences higher and the Jaguar purred up the hill until we came to a large gate that was opened by remote control. A short drive snaked up to an enormous house that although slightly ‘kitschy’ was beautiful. I grinned at Marie. Where on earth wer
e we? A normal employee would never be able to afford something like this.

  We were received in style by a butler, Ad stood in the entrance hall and welcomed us. He liked the whisky and called his wife to come and get the flowers.

  “Gillian, but call me Gill. Come in. My husband has told me so much about you, I have been quite curious about meeting you.”

  I felt … Gracious, were the whisky and flowers really enough? However, I batted the thought away. After all, I was here as a tourist, not asking for his daughter’s hand. We were led into a lounge which displayed a wonderful view of the garden and town. The house was decorated in beautiful plain gray-beige colors and tastefully furnished. Ad asked what we would like to drink, and correctly assumed I would take white wine. Marie wanted Prosecco. They didn’t have that, but they did have champagne. Rosé? Of course. Gil normally drank that, too.

  It was completely unforced. I had seldom experienced easy-going atmosphere with older people before. We chatted about various things and made small-talk before being called in to dinner. There was salad then for Marie and Gill and a vegetable stir fry and a steak for us guys.

  I had to smile a little as Gill asked Marie to accompany her into the garden after the meal, while Ad and I went into the library.

  It was more a study than a library, I guessed. He sat behind his desk and waved me to a chair in front. The evening lost its light and easy atmosphere suddenly and took on a serious tone. I was unsure what awaited me.

  “Oliver, I have been thinking about what you told me on the airplane. Your observations impressed me. I must admit, I haven’t been quite honest with you. Have you googled my name?”