This was our third straight day of waiting on hold from Expedia. I was coughing in bed with the phone propped on a pillow and Elaine had gone off to feed the dog. At least that’s what I thought she was doing. She disappeared from the window on my laptop and the only thing I could hear—beside the ambulances rushing past my building—was the sound of her cooing at Mister Bumbles. Besides fussing over the dog, all we did to keep ourselves occupied lately were three-way calls to hapless travel consultants and screen-freezing attempts at Zoom sex.
Read more of "Frequent Flier Miles for Mister Bumbles" at The Daily Drunk.
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