Guess what today is? If you have been reading my blog then you already know the answer is Hump Day.
If the novelty of renaming the day is beginning to wear off, then it is time to use the strength gained in Step 3: Be A Marathon Man and move onto Step 4 of my book Everyone’s Advice Is Wrong . . . Including Mine: Scorch The Bridge.
Per blog policy, here is an excerpt of the step below: The full text of my hiring, idling, and firing will be available in print and on Kindle in only a matter weeks.
This step came from my rich uncle. Well, he’s not really my uncle but you know how it is with Arab families. Anyhow, my uncle, who is tremendously successful, informed us that in the heat of battle, generals would scorch the bridge behind them, so troops would have no choice but to press forward and fight. Retreat was not an option. He counseled that the same tactic should be implemented when resigning from a job. Instead of lingering in the office for another day, make the conscious choice to quit and do so decisively. There was no time for wavering or second-guessing. Scorching the bridge, he said, was the end result of self-reflection, realizing that nothing could be gained from remaining idle. Such idleness, much like in times of war, would lead to death.
Instead of lingering in the office for another day, make the conscious choice to quit
VIP no more, I headed back home outraged
I have designated Friday the day where the angry, perhaps whiny professor, gets to rant and rave much like Peter Griffin about anything that’s on my mind. Consider yourself warned.
Today’s topic: hotel customer service in the United States.
A friend of mine is in town this weekend for the usual partying in Scottsdale so naturally being a great friend, I volunteered to get him a room at the W Scottsdale, a Starwood hotel. Obviously, I had my own selfish motive- points.
Last year, I stayed at Starwood properties 25 times in order to qualify for platinum status. This provides 4PM checkouts, room upgrades, and, most critically, bonus points for free stays. Staying at hotels throughout the world, I quickly learned that status counts more than the size of your wallet. Upon hitting the coveted ‘platinum’ status I was invited into a world of pampering that I did not deserve. Everywhere I went it was “Mr. Bachuwa, is everything up to your standards?” “Mr. Bachuwa, we have taken the liberty of upgrading your room.” I was given a sneak peak of how the rich lived everyday and grew anxious at the prospect of being demoted down to lowly ‘gold’.
The difference in service are not to be scoffed at. Let me provide some examples:
St. Regis Mauritius
Hilton Doha
W Doha
Which brings me back to the W Scottsdale. I went to check-in, excited that I would, once again, be given the “Mr. Bachuwa” respect that should be reserved for my father, not a character like myself. Instead, the front desk didn’t even thank me for my loyalty failing to utter the sweet words, “We recognize your platinum status.” Worse, she told me I was in a standard room on the third floor. Entitled, I had to ask, “Aren’t there any suites available.” A quick “no” followed by the cold exchange of room keys and I was on my way.
VIP no more, I headed back home outraged that I was appropriately treated just like any other guest.
And it’s much bigger issues in the world, I know, but first I had to take care of the world I know. – Jay Z
Jay Z notwithstanding, it is remarkable how hotels overseas seem to take care of their guests with a different level of service and it’s not because of your status, your wallet, or your name. It’s just something that seems to come naturally. They want you to feel comfortable and will go out of their way to make you feel at home.
The same is true regarding domestic airlines versus international. Guess which one happened on a Delta flight and which one on Cathay Pacific?
“More f@!king peanuts,” as my knee is hit by the cart.
“Mr. Bachuwa, let me bring you some ice cream before we land. What flavor would you like?”
Now where’s that damn Starwood customer service number . . .
Where can you find the best Chinese food in the world? Flint, motherf$@king, Michigan.
Where can you find the best Chinese food in the world?
The answer: Flint, motherf$@king, Michigan.
Located right next to and across the street from two gentlemen’s clubs is positively, undoubtedly the best Chinese food in the history of civilization. Before you hit the X in the upper right corner, let me state the assumptions of how I arrived at this conclusion:
1. The study is based on an American’s tastes and preferences for what Chinese food should be.
2. The study does not take into account homemade food. In that case, my mom’s Chinese cooking would win.
3. The study is completely biased because I am from Flint, Michigan.
Here are the relevant portions of the 100+ page findings that will be published next quarter in the journal of The International Centre for the Study and Development of Chinese Foods.
Credibility of the Scientist
I have lived in Shanghai, traveled to just about every country in Asia, and love Chinese food. I also like to eat, a lot.
Sample Size
Obviously to assert something as the greatest in the world you have to try it all over.
Arizona: Let me first say that the worst place for Chinese food in the United States, without question, is Arizona. In the words of Chris Tucker, “How you gonna sell a bucket of grease.” They just don’t care about quality. It’s too much sauce, too much oil, and pretty much disgusting.
Incidentally, Arizona is the birthplace of P.F. Changs ,a funny joke in The Hangover 2, and an even bigger farce in the world of Chinese cuisine.
Grade: F
China: Clearly, the best Chinese food has to be in China rght?
Wrong. See assumption #1 stating that the study is based on an American’s taste. Chinese food in China is not American Chinese food. On the whole, Chinese do not like chicken breast. They prefer the odds and ends of chicken and usually serve it with skin and bones. Sadly, I did not come across this famous General Tso and his chicken in all my time in Asia.
That isn’t to say that the specialty dishes unique to each part of China are not delicious. Indeed they are.
Let’s go on a quick tour:
Chengdu: Hot Pot
Shanghai: Dumplings
Beijing: Peking Duck
You haven’t lived until you try these authentic dishes. At the same time, I have to mention the street food. After a night out, nothing is better than the local merchant making fried rice, noodles, dumplings, vegetables, and an assortment of meats, in his mobile cook stand. Furthermore, the price can’t be beat.
Finally, there is the fried rice. The fried rice in Shanghai that you get at some nondescript restaurant at 2PM or 2AM is the best in the world. It is ridiculous how good it tastes and beyond ridiculous how much they charge for an inferior substitute in the US.
But, apart from fried rice and specialty dishes, do not trick yourself into believing that going to China will be the MSG binge your heart so desires.
Grade: A-
Australia:
Melbourne is a great city for food. The diversity of the people ensures that you can find all types of delicious cuisine. However, I happened to pick the one Chinese restaurant in all of Melbourne where the food was plain and boring. The rest of the time we stayed clear of Chinese food.
Grade: Incomplete
India:
“Chinese Indian food in Delhi is the best!” Anshuman said. “Chinese Indian food?” What the hell was my friend talking about. Indian food in India, unlike Chinese food in China, is the best in the world, hands down. So I took him at his word and went out for some Indian Chinese food or vice versa. Let me tell you, besides the beautiful, exotic locale of Flint, Michigan; Delhi, India does have the best Chinese food in the world. It makes sense because Indians have mastered the art of curry, are excellent at making at variety of rice dishes (biryani being my favorite), and love spicy food as much as I do.
Take those skills, add in flavors from the Orient, and bam! You have appetizing Chinese Indian food.
Grade: A
United States: I have tried Chinese food all over the United States and nothing really stands out in terms of ‘wow’. Here are a few of the noteworthy places nonetheless:
Ann Arbor, Michigan: There were little mom and pop Chinese restaurants in Ann Arbor, Michigan that have since shut down that were great for the college budget in terms of quantity.
Grade: B+
Butte, Montana: This place was worth checking out because it was more like the Red Light District than a Chinese restaurant. You get your own little area behind curtains to drink and eat. From what I can remember the fried rice was great but the rest was meh.
Grade: B
Now for the winner:
Flint, Michigan: Empress of China
Home of the best crab cheese, American steamed dumplings (that the waiter likes to remind me even though I’ve been there 1000 times, takes fifteen minutes to prepare), hot and sour soup, New York egg rolls, curry shrimp, and most notably, princess chicken, Empress of China has something for everyone. I have been going there for decades and I still order the same thing and it is still as delicious as the first day I tried it. Many times when dining at Chinese restaurants, groups prefer ‘family style’ where everyone shares. Not my family. We each order our own princess chicken and grow anxious when someone wants to engage in a trade.
What makes Empress so good? Quality ingredients, a world of flavors, and who knows what else. It’s just so good. The pictures convey the meaning better than I can’t convey right now on an empty stomach.
#9: Trick Or Treat? Hong Kong Pho Halloween
Behold Hong Kong.
Whether you are coming in from Hong Kong International Airport (HKG), crossing the border via bus from Shenzhen, China, or making your way over water via a ferry from Macau, arriving in Hong Kong is nothing short of magical. The only other city that compares is Las Vegas. The energy and excitement that comes from staring out an airplane window and seeing the bright lights of the Vegas Strip never gets old much like the moment of arrival in 香港。
The first time I went to Hong Kong was October 30,, 2009. At the time, I was living in Shanghai, China and a friend of mine told me there was a group of Italian exchange students headed to Hong Kong and Macau for the Halloween festivities.
“They’ll meet you in the airport in Shenzhen, be sure to bring your tuxedo.” Puzzled as to why Halloween weekend was a black tie event, I visited my favorite tailor located at Lujiabang Lu 陆家浜路站 to get fitted for the ball.
007 tux in hand, I arrived at the airport and found my new friends at the universal meet up place, McDonald’s. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and took a bus bound for Macau Ferry Station. The plan was to party Vegas style in Macau the night before Halloween and then head back to Hong Kong for the main event.
We suited up and headed to the world’s largest casino, the Venetian Macau. Picture walking into the Bellagio in Las Vegas: You immediately hear the ringing of the casino slots, the shouts of the winners [and losers], and the inevitable drunkard yelling, “Vegas baby!”
Now, hit the mute button. Welcome to Macau.
While the city had the bright lights of Las Vegas, it did not have the party. The rapture had taken the atmosphere of Las Vegas and left behind boring, rich businessmen betting with $25,000 chips with no emotion regardless if they won or lost. In the middle of this glorified retirement home/bingo hall was seven Italians and one American, overdressed and underwhelmed.
After an uneventful night, we took the ferry to Hong Kong the next day. Since most of the world does not celebrate Halloween the way we do in the US and after being duped by Asia’s Vegas, my expectations were low.
Before the party began, I had to procure the final piece of my costume, a requisite hat that had fallen out of my bag in the airport. I went to the night market but stall after stall, merchant after merchant, but still left empty handed, though I was offered many “bags ‘a’ watches” for “best price”. Hours later, the search had come up empty. Frustrated, I was about to head back to the ‘Mansion’ rationalizing that not having a Halloween costume was not that big of a deal. Then I saw a welcoming, familiar sign that read: Pho- Delight Vietnamese Cuisine.
“Table for one please,” I said while pointing to the picture on the menu while making a gesture for a ‘big bowl’. A few moments later, the bowl arrived along with fresh spring rolls. Finally, I had found the comforts of home. It was a cathartic experience to squeeze the Siracha and Hoisin sauce into the steaming hot broth in preparation for a relaxing meal. Even with this rich, playful bowl in front of me, something was amiss. I couldn’t help but think about my incomplete Halloween costume. Sensing my apprehension, the kind waiter brought me more fresh sprouts.
Once again, my world was in balance. Upon emerging from my blackout of beef and broth, I found myself back in the hustle and bustle of Hong Kong. Bowl empty, belly full, I headed back out and double downed my efforts to find that elusive, mythological hat.
“Mission accomplished!” I said to the merchant as I handed over a fistful of Hong Kong dollars.
Dressed as shifu 师傅, a master of Kung Fu, I, along with my friends made our way to the party district of Lan Kwai Fong. While walking among the hundreds of thousands of partygoers, we found ourselves swarmed by paparazzi bombarding us with flashes from photos. What followed was the greatest Halloween party the world has ever seen.
Exhausted, I headed back to our luxury accommodations, knowing that as my night was ending the chaos in the real Las Vegas was only just beginning.
This was a Halloween weekend that I surely will never forget.
Verdict:
Macau-Tricked
Hong Kong- Treat
They Tried to Serve Me Rosé!
In the Fligiht Reviews section of my blog, I’ll be discussing how I got from point A to point M (M is for Maldives) on points while staying away from too many pictures of airport lounges and lie-flat seats. I apologize in advance because I love taking pics of these things and I probably get too detailed in my review of both.
But, as I wrote in the introduction for my Hotel Reviews section I plan on keeping the repetitive pics to a minimum and the humor at a maximum.
There will most certainly be sarcastic (emphasis added) smugness regarding my experiences @30,000 feet so know that in advance.
Indeed, they did try to serve me rosé champagne and I may have thrown a small fit.
It’s all in good fun, relax.
Please, Not Another Hotel Review Site
The Hotel Reviews portion of my blog will not be yet another spoiled points churner crying about how he didn’t get the 4PM late checkout or how he didn’t get the free ocean view upgrade on account of having a gazillion credit card points that he has been hoarding for another free trip. While I do empathize with my fellow points travelers when this happens to me, I think I will do something different.
My plan is to write reviews on hotels as they coincide with my other blog posts by relaying an insightful, hopefully humorous anecdote regarding my stay. Of course, I’ll quickly summarize how I got there using points but as I have tried to state over and over, ThePointsOfLife is more than just traveling everywhere for free. It is, as I also state over and over, Step 1 out of 10 of my book Everyone’s Advice Is Wrong . . . Including Mine.
So sit back relax and enjoy the flight.
Wait, that’s the Flight Reviews section.
In any event, prepare to be amazed.
30 Days to Maldives: Step 5
One Application Churn:
o 1. Citi Hilton Reserve Card: 2 Weekend Nights free after $2500 spend in 4 months.
- Here is the link for Citi.
- This card gives you gold status allowing you and your companion a ridiculous breakfast buffet at the Conrad Maldives for free. That breakfast would otherwise be $100 per person per day. At the same time, just for being gold, you also get free happy hour from 5-6 which is well worth it as drinks are a minimum of $12 each.
- Maximize the deal: You and your traveling partner should both apply for a card. That will give you four nights free, three that you can use on this trip. Four nights at the Maldives is more than plenty in my opinion.
- Here is the link for Chase Sapphire.
- Here is the link for Chase Ink.
Retail Cost:
The Big Picture:
o This is an extreme example of how you can easily and efficiently get to the Maldives in one churn. It is probably unreasonable to meet the minimum spend in just 30 days but it is possible especially if you spread it out over the allotted time of 3-4 months or by applying for 1-2 cards per churn cycle. More elaborate trips require patience and practice, i.e., following the Points 101 directions over and over.
o Virtually all the trips I wrote about were done using points by repeating the Points 101 directions. My first churn was in November of 2011 and I have consistently kept churning since then while maintaining an excellent credit score and staying out of credit card debt.
o Offers do expire, points programs devalue, and all banks, airlines, hotels, terms and conditions do apply.
o Please feel free to ask about a specific trip you would like to take, the timeframe you had in mind, and how you would like to get there. I’m happy to answer all questions based on an individual’s circumstances provided you have read Steps 1-5.
I Have No Filter
In an ongoing effort to spam humanity with blogs, tweets, posts, and snapchats, I’ve had to learn the game of social media. When I found myself signing up for a Tinder account just to promote the book Everyone’s Advice Is Wrong, I realized it was time to go to counseling.
Yesterday on my personal Facebook account I posted:
I’ve officially sold out; I post blogs, use hash tags, filter pics, and now make collages.
Smh
Oh and I just said ‘smh’. FML
I received ‘likes’ across the board for this post. Maybe it was because my friends were agreeing that social media has gone too far or maybe it was because they are agreeing that I am a sellout. It’s been three weeks since I posted the most clicked ‘No One Listens to the Professor’ and the devolution of my evolution since then is remarkable.
The erosion of my moral compass for what is and what is not ‘douche’ behavior, for lack of a better term, seems to be unstoppable and perhaps unrecoverable. My goal when I started this blog thing was to get the word out about a book. I did not foresee that I could lose my soul in the process.
So all collages and hashtags aside, I am going to say F*!K the filter and go back to being the angry, old professor that you are beginning to know and love.
Now if I could just figure out how to setup my Tumblr . . .
It’s National Siblings Day, Not International for Some Reason.
It’s National Siblings Day, not international for some reason. In honor of this momentous occasion I would like to share a little about my sisters with a couple of, you guessed it, excerpts from my book Everyone’s Advice Is Wrong . . . Including Mine.
Part I: Trial And Mostly Error
“Ah yes, excellent, Boardwalk with two hotels, that will be $4000,” I told my sister Zina seconds before she flipped over the board in disgust. New opponent, same result; one by one I was running out of people to dominate in this high stakes game of real estate. For me, it was evident that my name would, one day, be listed amongst the greatest in commercial real estate:
Rockefeller, Trump . . . Bachuwa.
My grand aspirations for becoming a millionaire mogul was inspired by such sibling rivalry. Throughout the years, my sisters have always listened to my wild ideas about how I will strike it rich. They tolerate my ‘I have the best idea ’ stories and for that I am thankful. On a few occasions, I have tempted them to join me on one of my hair-brained expeditions.
In Lesson 2: A Dollar Is Green I discuss Zina and I’s efforts to open a Jimmy John’s franchise that never came to being. Here is an excerpt of that plan:
The idea was simple: utilize the same franchise model that was obscenely successful in the Midwest, bring it to the Southwest, and eventually expand to one of the largest universities in the United States, Arizona State. With that foolproof formula in mind, I spent many evenings building my Mercedes SL65 AMG on mbusa.com, conflicted as to whether or not I needed navigation. As [bad] luck would have it, I was accepted into Arizona State, inconveniently an hour and a half drive from Tucson, my prospective Jimmy John’s franchise location. In need of a local partner, I convinced my sister Zina to move from Michigan to Tucson and run the day-to-day operations. I figured that I could commute from Tempe to Tucson a few times a week while she made the sandwiches. With Zina on board, I grew ever more excited about this plan. Enthusiasm, like the “free smells” neon sign in a Jimmy John’s window, was as close as I would come to owning a Jimmy John’s.
Today, as in literally today, I speak of the missed opportunity of Jimmy John’s as they finally opened one in Old Town Scottsdale, probably the 50th location in the Valley. But, even if Zina and I did not become sub-shop millionaires we still have the support of our older sister Rima cheering us on until we do breakthrough.
So on this made-up social media holiday, I’d just like to thank both of them for their support. I know that I will get at least four book sales from them- 2 Kindle and 2 hard copies.
“If you do go to a restaurant where the wine is out of your budget, drink beer!”
The setting is familiar:
“Your table sir,” the maitre d’ graciously points out as he escorts me to my seat. The waiter comes by and introduces himself then proceeds to discuss the chef’s specials.
“Tonight we have a Japanese wagyu steak . . . “
My mind wanders from the needlessly complex description of the entrées that sounds more like a lesson from the Rosetta Stone to the wine list. I open the list that is as thick as the YellowPages and begin to peruse the selection.
I am relieved given the pomp and swank of the restaurant that I at least recognize the types of wines. The usual suspects: Cabernet, Pinot Noir, and Merlot are all there but beyond those, I am as lost as I was when I was listening to the waiter, who is now carrying on about the ‘infused dessert’ selection.
Even after visiting vineyards from Cape Town to California, I still don’t recognize some of the wines on the list. That is forgivable given the number of grape varietals. What really bothered me was that I could not tell you what made one Cabernet choice better than the other- apart from the stupid prices ranging from $96 to $10,000. I like how the 10k bottle is a nice round number but the low-end bottle has to be some off number, so as to make it sound legitimate.
So what is a wine lover to do? Conventional wisdom would say, “Do not choose the $96 bottle that will make you look cheap and unsophisticated.” Maybe I should ask the waiter? No, he will just try to sell me on some expensive bottle to inflate the bill.
At page 120 of the list, I gave up.
“My father will have a bottle of Stella Artois and I’ll have a glass of Malbec.”
Crisis averted. I didn’t look cheap and by ordering Malbec I constructively preserved the appearance that I am a sophisticated wine drinker.
Rule #1: Never order wine by the glass, especially when it is $13. This is not a good idea for the most obvious reason- who only wants to have a glass of wine. But, more importantly, the glass will often be substandard. Wine by the glass, is for your everyday wine drinker who, luckily for him, only has to say “I’ll have a glass of house red,” to be satisfied. But for us, the novice-quasi experts, we require a tad bit more.
Predictably, the Malbec came and it was as bold as a Screwdriver with extra pulp. After a few more swirls, a few more sniffs, I had no choice but to call the waiter and send it back. I had enjoyed the finest Malbecs when I visited Argentina and felt it would be an insult to my palette to continue drinking this watered down, poor excuse for vino.
“May I see the wine list again?”
This time I skipped passed the 300 Cabernets and went to the subheading of ‘Specialty Varietals’. There were two bottles of Malbec listed: One for $96 and one for $225. At this point, I didn’t care if I looked cheap and settled for the $96 bottle.
A different waiter returned with the wine and as she was uncorking it said that it was a great bottle of Malbec because it was made in Mendoza, Argentina. Not wanting to be smug, I held back my comment, “Just about all Malbec is made in Mendoza.”
Skipping my thorough analysis of the cork, I went straight to the sample. Meanwhile, my father was glaring at me like who does this buffoon think he is while enjoying his ice-cold Stella. I swished the wine around, put it to my nose then back on the table. A few swishes later, I was ready to taste it again.
“Well, what do you think?” she asked.
“Meh, it’s not that great,” I commented, “but it will do.”
Immediate buyer’s remorse set in as I began to drink the watery Malbec Part 2. Each sip tasted worse than the last as I could not rationalize the price for this convenience store wine. My dad, having finished his quality Stella, also did not enjoy a few glasses.
My steak came and it was prepared perfectly. Ignoring the protest of my father, who vowed to leave if I carried through with my proposal, I called over the waiter again.
“I’m sorry but this Malbec is awful.”
The manager came and I told him that I felt bad for sending back the first glass so I acquiesced to the first bottle out of embarrassment and now I may have passed the point of no return to ask for another change.
In fairness to me, what else could I have done? In front of me was a tantalizing steak and the only compliment for it was a glass of water or a watered down glass. Taking pity on me, the manager recommended a Cabarnet in the amount of $155 and delivered a quality bottle.
Following this incident, I came up with a few more rules:
Rule #2: If you do go to a restaurant where the wine is out of your budget, drink beer!
Rule #3: If you are looking for a ‘specialty’ varietal like a Malbec and they only have two, one that is the cheapest wine on the whole list and one well beyond your budget, it may be time to consider Rule #2 or move onto Rule #4.
Rule #4: Trust the sommelier when you receive an unabridged volume of wine well beyond your expertise.
Rule #4(a): Your sophistication or lack of sophistication is not impressing nor is it disappointing anyone.
In the end, I was cheap, unsophisticated, and intoxicated.
I should’ve stuck with a Stella followed by a couple of shots- at least I know the names of all of those. 
