Malta Uno
I’m writing this from my balcony in Malta, overlooking the ocean, a massive casino, and my own complete lack of clothing. Yes, I am currently shirtless and free-commandoing it. In a few minutes, I’ll get dressed to hit the bar for my nightly three whiskey sours, followed by dinner, followed by whatever poor life choices the Mediterranean wind blows my way.
To give you an idea of my current state: last night’s itinerary involved five whiskey sours, an entire bottle of wine with dinner, and a final "nightcap" sour. The bartenders here replace the bitters with passion fruit, which is delicious enough to make you completely forget you have a liver. I finally stumbled back to my room around 12:30 AM and didn't wake up until 4:15 PM today. I am fully aware that I flew all the way to a historic island just to do exactly what I could have done at home for a quarter of the price. But hey, the heart wants what it wants, and right now, my heart wants to do absolutely nothing.
This all started with Ignat, yes that is his name. He represents a specialized online travel agency that focuses on booking discounted business-class and first-class airline tickets. I contacted six of them, but from the beginning I was pulling for Ignat. Why you ask, because of Ignatius J. Reilly, the famous pompous, eccentric, and flatulent protagonist of the 1980 novel A Confederacy of Dunces by John Kennedy. If you have not read it, I suggest doing so. Here are a few of this quotes;
"I refuse to 'look up.' Optimism nauseates me. It is perverse. Since man's fall, his proper position in the universe has been one of misery."
"When a true genius appears in the world, you may know him by this sign, that the dunces are all in confederacy against him."
"Leave me alone! I am contemplating my valve. My pyloric valve is acting up again under the stress of this vulgar employment."
"My pen is disinclined to flow today. Low spirits, a sense of universal doom, and a slight indigestion conspire to render me inert."
Thanks to some questionable life choices in Mexico, my spine is officially on strike. I now require a fully horizontal flight position for any trip longer than a quick commute. The upside? First class serves real champagne and warm nuts. Speaking of warm nuts...
The going price for business class to Malta was roughly $8,500, but Ignat managed to snag it for $3,900. Sure, that is still quite a bit of cash, but my current financial strategy is to aggressively burn through my savings and stress-test the government safety net for seniors. Right now? I am way ahead of schedule.
But back to Ignat. Based on that beautiful, broken English, he was definitely from Eastern Europe, my absolute favorite accent. During our very first call, I decided to introduce myself as "Timothy" instead of "Tim." I figured it sounded more distinguished and would surely command a lower fare. While in the negotiation phase, as in the first time we spoke, he said, "Tee-mo-tee, vee must lern to troost eech odder." I knew right away, this is my guy.
Once I officially agreed to work with him, he started calling me an average of five times a day. I have to respect the hustle, especially since I literally never answered. It was like training a dog. You know how you can’t let a dog walk out the door ahead of you so they know you’re the Alpha? I thought by ghosting his calls, he would get the hint that I was the Alpha and would call him when I was ready.
Nope. Ignat does not care about your Alpha theories. He would just call back a second and third time.
The climax came when he called me at 8:00 AM. Eight in the morning. I stared at my vibrating phone in disbelief and thought, Ignat, my man, if you dial my number one more time at this ungodly hour, we are completely done.
Everything was set for my flight the next day. Right before emailing the tickets, he casually drops a casual, low-stakes warning:
"Don't ring aeroplan telfon machine for cheenge chair, and don't touch mobayl app or look on kompyuter screen online. Seestem over there have speshul clever teknolojee now and it will see something is no good with dis teeket. If you kleek button, big katastrofee happen for evrybody, so just sit kwayet and look normal."
Years ago, when I was afraid of my own shadow, this would have triggered a panic attack. Now? I love the adrenaline. I don’t know how he keeps his cool or where he counterfeits these tickets, but I believed every word. His website has a page explaining the actual business model, but that's boring. I’d much rather believe he answers to a shadowy mafia boss, and my trip is actively helping them launder dirty money.
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