[caption id="attachment_5418" align="alignleft" width="225" caption="Are you kidding me?  "]<a href="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/P4300010.jpg"><img class="size-medium wp-image-5418" title="OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA" src="http://www.diaryofalatebloomer.com/wp-content/uploads/2011/05/P4300010-225x300.jpg" alt="" width="225" height="300" /></a>[/caption]

Going on one of these President's Club trips is like being thrown Monopoly money.  The company says, "Eat what you want, do what you want, and we'll pick up the tab!"

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O.k.!

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Yesterday, Jimmykins granted me a lifelong wish of whale watching.

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On Day 215, he signed us up on a Segway tour.

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When he first told me about it, I asked, "What the hell is a Segway?"

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Oh, my, my, my.  Poor Jimmykins.

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When you invite a feisty, independent broad on a trip, she's going to have opinions.

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And my opinion of a Segway is that it exists for lazy Americans to get even lazier.

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My first question to Mr. Segway Tour Dude:  "Do you have a bicycle with a basket and a bell that I can ride behind the group?"

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He laughed.

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"I'm not kidding."

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He laughed again.

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"I'm really not kidding."

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Mr. Segway Tour Dude confirmed,  "You really want a bicycle?"

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"Yes."

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He shifted uncomfortably.

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I prodded, "Why would any able-bodied person use a Segway when there's bicycles at the back of your shop?"

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Mr. Segway Tour Dude then pontificated about the high tech wizardry behind the Segway and its Maker.

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Yawn.

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"Can I please ride the bicycle?"

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I then remembered that I was Jimmykins' guest on a company trip, and that I better shut my pie hole and try to be good little yes woman.

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I stepped on to my Segway and zipped it.

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There are worse things in life than lazying it up on a Saturday morning when you're cranky and your uterus is screaming for mercy because you just started your monthly "celebration".  The bike ride would have probably killed me.

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And I actually had fun on the Segway, dammit.

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