Tale of the Timeshare

I was inspired to write this post by Ryan over at Here There Be Dragons, mostly because I find him funny. Plus, it brought back my own recent little timeshare tale, at which I am still shaking my head.

So we were at this "totally bitchin' BBQ festival duuuude" (not my phrasing, but an exact quote from a local who told us about it) when we unwittingly asked one of the non-BBQ vendors there if she could tell us the time.  Mistake #1.

She told us, then asked if we had ever been to Sedona. I happily told her that we were planning on going the very next day, and that we were on our honeymoon. Mistake #2.

At this point, she begins telling us all about this fabulous Jeep tour we could take around the red rocks and the Mogollon rim if we signed up to tour a property. Still unaware of what she was getting at, we politely told her we had already blown the budget with a helicopter ride over the Grand Canyon and that it was out of the question. It was then that she uttered the magic word (free) and said all we had to do was tour a property and listen to a presentation. No further obligation, and it would only take 90 minutes of our time.

Sucker. Me, that is.

Prior to even heading out west, we had been warned of the timeshare trap in Vegas. Inwardly, I scoffed at such a notion. I don't get suckered into anything, and besides, timeshares are for octogenarians. And if per chance, we did encounter a timeshare tout, I am very good at saying no and walking right on past.
Well, let me tell you that we had not been in Vegas FIVE minutes, (five!) before we found ourselves pensively listening and nodding to a seemingly nice man who wanted us to sign up for the 1 PM presentation of a nice property 10 minutes outside of the city.  In return for our time, we could have a Vegas show of our choice. At this point, I realized that all of my derision had been in vain....I had already been fooled.

Sucker. Me, again.

We walked away, telling him we would think about it. Yeah  right. So what happened between Vegas and Sedona, where I nearly offered my right arm to be able to partake?  I don't know. What I do know is that I really wanted to ride in a Jeep out by some nice red rocks.

So we get there, and the resort is crawling with other people who have been similarly suckered. After a brief tour of the place, we all get down to business. That is, they get down to the business of selling us something, and we get down to the business of feigning interest and masking our boredom, while still attempting to be polite, visions of a wild Jeep ride dancing in our heads. This is actually a difficult balance to maintain. Try it sometime.

After the spiel was over, we are left on our own to "think it over." No thinking necessary. Here is what we were offered: For the bargain start up price of $9,000 dollars, we would have 80,000 points to use on lodging in a destination of our choice. I cannot even begin to describe all the details associated with how to use the points. My eyes glazed over and my jaw dropped at the mentioned of the words "nine" and "thousand" in the same sentence. I was fully expecting it would be thousands, but I thought two or three at the maximum! All of the trips I have taken, near and far,  in the last 10 years may have equaled 9 grand. Here, they want 9 grand before I have even packed a bag and stepped out of my front door. Seriously?  Surely this arrangement is for the very rich, very old, or the very naive. I am none of those (barring my recent birthday), and so I did not feel that we qualified and I nicely told them so.

"No" is not a word in their vocabulary. At the first hint of "no" our representative brought over one of her buddies to throw in some extras to sweeten the deal. I am not even sure what they were, because I wasn't hearing anything but the words "nine" and "thousand." I thought we had all agreed that we would not be purchasing a timeshare that day, when I realized that WE had not all agreed. Well, Adam and I were certainly united in our decision, but the timeshare people did not appreciate our husband and wife togetherness.

The rep, a big fan of timeshares herself, kept regaling us with stories of freshly caught shrimp and fish on their luxury Hawaiian vacation, caught near an exotic waterfall, and directly consumed for dinner. She acted as if this opportunity would never present itself by any other method, unless and until we purchased the timeshare straightway. The bargain price of course did not include any transportation expenses incurred getting to said exotic location. And we would still need to pay $187 for the week of lodging. And still need to pay for food and any activities. HOW IS THIS A GOOD IDEA???

While all of this is going on, cheers erupted from the other side of the room, and champagne bottles were popping.  Some people had apparently just sold their souls to timeshare purgatory purchased a timeshare. Might I point out they that were well into their golden years? Adam and I exchanged knowing looks.

Finally, as a last resort, they brought over someone from corporate. We stood our ground, informing them that adding another monthly payment to our life was simply not going to happen and we thanked them for their time. I guess they finally believed us, because 20 seconds later, we were in the prize department, collecting our voucher for the wild Jeep ride around the Sedona red rocks. Which, I will just go ahead and tell you know was the worst tour we have ever taken, and if we had actually paid for it, would have been left scratching our heads wondering what in the world just happened. The pictures I have attached are what I snapped just  driving around Sedona, happy in the breeze of our top-down Jeep, and free of persistent salespeople.

Does anyone have any further insight on timeshares? Am I missing something?

Life as a Newly Minted Grown Up

Hello all, checking in for a moment.
I just have to say.....I am EXHAUSTED. So much for my love/hate relationship with your travel blog. This whole full-time job thing leaves me with barely enough time greet my new husband, let alone salivate over the adventures of blogging buddies. Oh I definitely try though. I turn on my computer first thing every morning to do a quick perusal of the night before and start to get sucked into my Google reader. That is, until the soft whisper of ungraded papers turns into a nagging scream. And if it's not the ungraded papers it's the lesson plans. And if it's not the lesson plans, it's the photocopying. If it's not the photcopying, it's the endless round of meetings I must attend. Geeeezzzz!!! Bring on the life of a substitute! In and out, a carefree jaunt in my step all the way.

Ok, but then I wouldn't be experiencing the satisfaction of an effective lesson plan, a happy student, or another Friday indicating the end of a good week. Exhausted? fo sho...Happy? Most def-minus the fact that breathing has now become second priority to lesson planning.

As for adventures on the horizon, there are a few loose plans in the works. You all know I can only work and salivate over OPTB (other people's travel blogs) for so long.

In another happy news, I threatened every single student with implied mutation and dismemberment if there was ever any misbehavior for a substitute teacher in my classroom. Six years in this virtually thankless position has made me slightly manic on this subject. Clearly, they took me and my not-so-vague threats seriously-I had my first sub the other day and she marveled at their behavior. Granted, the sub was my mother, who rules with almost as much of an iron fist as I do. But still! They behaved wonderfully, and for that, I am happy. Also on the plus side, I get respect much easier now that I am a real teacher. Oh, I had respect before, but it came as a by-product of the aforementioned iron fist and holding the title of Queen "B."   And who really enjoys that?

Alright, secretly I enjoyed it at times. Substitute teachers are supposed to be mean and I took my job seriously. If I had a dollar for every time a kid commented on the fact that I never smile, well, I would be on a RTW right now! For a humorous, yet accurate, portrayal of my illustrious career of choice prior to now, check out this Washington Post article by a guy who opted to become a sub to fill in the gaps of his employment. Minus the pay rate (subs in WV actually get paid fairly decently) he is pretty spot on.

But that is all in the past.   I have a steady paycheck, retirement, and a real profession. Now if only I could command my house into cleanliness as I once commanded a room full of unruly students.