Confessions Of... A Space Needle Employee

November 9, 2005
'Oh, you know, this job has its ups and downs'

During a recent summer break from college, Katie Lorah worked as an elevator operator at Seattle's iconic Space Needle.

On the job

One hundred and fifty times daily, I made the 500-foot journey up to the Needle's observation deck and slowly revolving restaurant. (My ears stopped popping after the first week.) I wore a sparkly space-themed vest, a giant Space Needle button, and a big grin. Every time the glass-fronted elevator rose, I zipped through a well-rehearsed, 41-second spiel. Tourists from near and far huddled near the glass to take in the view and snap pictures. They shrieked in delight, and occasionally listened. It was chaos, and, some of the time, fun.

Facts and fictions

Before starting the job, I learned all sorts of facts that I will be able to spew forth well into old age. I was trained to answer most any question tossed my way--from how much the structure was designed to sway in a heavy wind (20 inches at the top) to what kinds of animals live in Puget Sound (the world's largest octopus, the Giant Pacific, measuring up to 30 feet). When I didn't know the answer, I would shamelessly make something up: "That weird scraping sound? Oh, that's just normal elevator noise." Heads would nod appreciatively.

Actors and lifers

Most of my coworkers were actors, artists, and students. Needless to say, this was not many people's dream job. We learned to meet lame-brained questions ("Is the oxygen thinner up there?"), clumsy come-ons from middle-aged creeps ("I didn't know they had blondes in space"), and temper tantrums (both juvenile and adult) with chipper indifference. You could practically watch employees remove their happy masks as they came into the break room. A few kept their masks on all the time: the lifers who felt that this was their calling. One woman had run her elevator for over two decades; the summer I was there, she had calculated the approximate date of her millionth trip up the Needle. She baked a cake to celebrate.

Taking it personally

As a native Seattleite, I felt responsible for everyone's enjoyment of the Space Needle, and by extension, the city. I apologized if it was cloudy. I winked at kids and told them where to stand for the best views ("Psst! In the front, near the glass. You're not scared of heights, are you?") and asked people where they came from ("Minnesota? Lotta lakes there, I hear"). When the weather was clear, you could see the Mariners playing at Safeco Field, and I offered prizes to anyone who could read the name on the pitcher's jersey. I told nice couples to come back at dusk--the sunset over Puget Sound is instant romance. More than a few times I pointed out where my parents' house sits, three miles away.

Good times

For one of the first times in my life, I was an authority figure and the all-knowing center of attention. It was addictive. And I was surprised at how often feigning a good mood would actually put me in one. The tourists in my charge had probably saved up money and planned their trip months beforehand. Most of the people made my job easy because they were absolutely determined to have fun, to make their vacation a success. That's the only explanation for how I got laughs--actual guffaws--every time someone asked how I was doing.

"Oh, you know," I'd reply, "this job has its ups and downs."

Plan Your Next Getaway
Keep reading

Invasion of the Pod People!

Blogging is so last year. Podcasts, which are alternately fun, oddball, and amateurish, can be downloaded onto computers and MP3 players for free. Apple's iTunes lists tons of podcasts; these four are among the 100-plus travel-related options. 1. San Francisco: sparkletack.com Host: Richard Miller, born and raised in Northern California and a San Francisco resident for 15 years. A graphic designer by trade, Miller is an amateur historian especially fascinated with the gold-rush era. He discusses new topics weekly: the origins of city street names, burrito etiquette, men being shanghaied onto ships along the Barbary Coast in the 19th century, the trials and tribulations of Patty Hearst. Why he does it: "I'm fascinated by history, especially the story of this beautiful and romantic city. History is entertaining to listen to, and important in understanding who we are and where we have come from." Listen in: Describing the Wave Organ, PVC tubes that play a kind of symphony along the waterfront: "The sounds are created by the impact of the waves against the tubes . . . It's guaranteed to give you a little space to contemplate, to calm your mind and ease the background roar of 21st-century static." 2. Kyoto: kyotopodcast.jp Host: Tim Burgess, born in Melbourne; his family moved to Indonesia two weeks later, and shifted to a new country every few years. (His father was a diplomat.) During a recent stint studying Japanese in Kyoto, Burgess began producing weekly podcasts that, if you're listening at a computer screen or on a photo-capable iPod, include embedded images of the temples and other sites discussed. Why he does it: "I am most interested in Kyoto's traditional architecture, especially in the context of the associated history. We try to overcome the language issue for non-Japanese speakers. We have no commercial sponsors, so it's purely a labor of love." Listen in: Frequent guest Donald "the Nut," who specializes in tasting unusual local delicacies, describing natto (fermented soybeans): "Some people compare it to the taste of dirty socks. But I don't think it's like that. People say that about cheese, don't they? Well, I love smelly cheese and I love smelly natto." 3. Spain: notesfromspain.com Host: Ben Curtis, born in Oxford, England. Seven years ago he agreed to teach English in Madrid for a few months, and has lived in the city ever since. He's now married to a Spaniard, and works as a translator, web designer, writer, and part-time English teacher. His wife, Marina, sometimes posts blog messages and helps host podcasts, which discuss Spanish culture--late dinner hours, hometown loyalties, flamenco bars, local markets. Why he does it: "People complain that Spain is too monocultural--same food in every restaurant, too proud, closed to outside influences--but therein lies my fascination. I've always loved radio, and now I can broadcast independently." Listen in: On the women who visit the Balearic island of Formentera: "They are all rather model-like, and spend most of their days... topless and G-string wearing, which is terribly hard for the poor innocent men who come here on holiday.... They have to deal with all this awful visual distraction." 4. London definitivelondon.com Host: Ed Thomas, born in the north of England. His family moved to Brussels soon after, then to London when he was 10; he has lived there on and off ever since. Thomas holds a law degree, is pursuing a master's in advertising, and records weekly podcasts aimed at giving visitors an honest, definitive picture of London. He's particularly drawn to museums, restaurants, and nightlife. Why he does it: "I'm a major tourist, and I know what details I've found useful upon arrival in a new city, and I draw on that. But then, of course, I try to go beyond day-to-day practical information and give an insider's view of what's hot and new." Listen in: Eighteen is the legal age for drinking in the U.K. However, if you're 14, with your parent or guardian, and having a sit-down meal, then you are entitled to order from the drinks menu. If you're 16...and you're having a meal, then you can also order alcoholic drinks."

What to Do When There's a Travel Emergency

You lose your passport To get a new passport, you need to go in person to a U.S. embassy or consulate. Visit travel.state.gov or call 202/ 501-4444 to find the location nearest you. Here's where that photocopy of your passport everyone recommended comes to the rescue. (Don't have one? Get a copy made now. No, really--now. And pack it separately from your passport.) The photocopy, along with a driver's license or other ID, should be acceptable proof. If you're scheduled to depart within 14 days, you can get an emergency passport on the spot, valid for up to a year. Standard passports valid for 10 years can also be issued abroad, but the process takes about two weeks. For someone in the U.S., getting a passport issued within 14 days costs $157. But somehow, if you're in another country, the cost is only $97 for either an emergency or a standard passport. Travelers without a passport photocopy or any ID will need to prove their citizenship, which will probably take a few days. And everyone applying for a passport abroad must visit an office during regular business hours. In the past, when an embassy was closed, an officer could write a "transportation letter" to try and get you on the plane. After 9/11, that no longer happens. Missing a flight is not a big enough emergency for exceptions to be made. You're sick--really sick Some health plans, such as Medicare, offer no coverage outside the U.S.; others will reimburse you for payments made out of pocket (Aetna is one); and still others may pay foreign hospitals directly if you arrange this in advance or upon admittance (Blue Cross/Blue Shield). Remember that 800 numbers often don't work overseas, so keep your insurer's local number handy. Depending on your plan, or lack thereof, consider travel insurance. Compare options at insuremytrip.com, and read the fine print carefully. If you have no coverage and are critically injured, the local U.S. embassy can arrange to send you home, at your expense. Read up on your destination's health-care system and health threats at travel.state.gov. Your wallet is stolen First, cancel your credit and debit cards. The maximum you'll have to pay for unauthorized charges is $50 per credit card, but you'd be wise to try and cancel before any purchases are made. Every credit card company has a 24-hour hotline that accepts collect calls. Cash advances and replacement cards won't be available immediately--one more reason why you shouldn't keep all your cash and valuables in the same place. Hiding a few $100 bills or traveler's checks in a separate bag, your shoe, or several different spots is a good idea. File a police report--if not in the hopes of recovering your wallet, then because it'll help with insurance claims and at airport check-ins. If you're traveling within the U.S. and have no photo ID, call and tell the airline about your predicament. Airline staff know that getting a duplicate license may take weeks, and can allow you onto a flight without photo ID. Show up ahead of time for additional screening, and bring a copy of the police report and any ID you still have. Your luggage is damaged, or worse File a report with the airline for damaged bags within 24 hours of arrival, or your claim could be dismissed. Airlines generally pay compensation for bags (and any damaged items inside) when luggage is torn or dented in transit, but can refuse to pay when there's no external damage. (Pack fragile items very carefully in checked bags, or better yet, keep them in your carry-on. Mailing some items might be smarter.) If luggage is destroyed or completely lost, you must list all the items inside to get reimbursed, as you would on an insurance form for a burglary. Airlines pay a maximum of $2,800 per passenger for lost luggage on domestic flights, though each carrier's policy is a little different (many exclude coverage of jewelry, camera equipment, and medications). In 98 percent of "lost" luggage situations, bags are eventually recovered. When delays occur, airlines may advance passengers cash or reimburse them for necessary items, such as toiletries and a change of clothes. (Ask how to proceed before leaving the airport; you'll need to fill out forms and perhaps keep receipts.) The airline will pay for shipping delayed bags to passengers, even if they're at a resort five hours from the airport. Always label your bags clearly. The flight is canceled, or you're bumped When a flight is canceled, the airline is responsible for getting passengers on its next departure with open seats. Waiting at the airport counter isn't the only option--calling the airline's 800 number is often a quicker way to rebook. Some carriers put stranded passengers onto competitors' flights, though they're not required to do so. They're also not required to provide snacks, bottled water, or lodging unless delays last a certain period of time (generally a minimum of four hours). Most airlines make efforts to ease the pain of waiting, but they do so on a case-by-case basis. As for overbooking, the Department of Transportation requires compensation for passengers who relinquish seats voluntarily. There's no federal standard for that compensation--you're only guaranteed something, usually a flight voucher. For passengers who are involuntarily bumped on domestic flights, the rules are as follows: If you're on another flight within an hour, you get nothing; within two hours, the airline pays you the equivalent of your one-way fare ($200 max); more than two hours later, you get 200 percent reimbursement ($400 max). You're in trouble with the law A third of the 2,500 reported annual arrests of U.S. citizens abroad are drug-related. To avoid trouble, do the obvious: Just say no, and never leave bags unattended. Familiarity with local laws is essential, especially in strict countries. In Turkey, all "antiquities" are owned by the state, and trying to bring home a souvenir that's a few centuries old could land you behind bars for a month. During any run-in with the law, be respectful and apologetic. If you're locked up, actively request that local authorities inform the U.S. embassy, which, according to the Vienna Convention on Consular Relations, must then happen "without delay." A consular officer can visit you, provide contact info for local attorneys, fill you in on the basics of the local legal system, and inform your loved ones of the situation. You get the worst seat on the plane It might not be on a par with getting sent to a Turkish prison, but it stinks (sometimes literally). If you're stuck with the middle seat, the seat next to a crying baby, or the one by the lavatory, politely let an attendant know you'd like to move, and why. Before things get that far, note that most airline websites show a plane's configuration and seat availability. Use the reviews on seatguru.com to help pick a good seat. If you're still not satisfied, get to the airport early and see what's open then--exit rows with extra legroom are often assigned at the last minute. When nothing else works, have a sleeping pill handy. Your companion is missing Before heading to that wild festival or club, follow the advice of moms everywhere and arrange for a meeting point in case you and your travel partner are separated. If you haven't done so and find yourself alone, go to a sensible home base--your hotel room, or, on day trips, the train station or your car--and stay put. If your companion is still a no-show, contact mutual friends by cell phone or e-mail, letting everyone know exactly where you are. The embassy can get in touch with hospitals and local officials, and, if necessary, put out word about a missing person. There's no record of your reservation Arrive at the hotel or the car-rental counter with a confirmation number and a printout of your reservation. If there's no evidence of your reservation, think about how it was made (through a third-party site? in your spouse's name?) and ask the agent to hunt accordingly. If nothing turns up, call your credit card company for a history of transactions, including dollar amounts blocked off by hotels or rental companies. It could be you're at the wrong place. Confirming reservations a few days before arrival, and rehashing special needs (late arrival, nonsmoking room, car seat), can help prevent mishaps. Disaster strikes When terrorist attacks or natural disasters occur, most hotels and airlines are as hospitable as possible and waive cancellation and change restrictions. The State Department fields thousands of calls asking about U.S. citizens in troubled areas--more than 15,000 inquiries were made for the 2004 tsunami alone. To keep loved ones from worrying unnecessarily, always leave a detailed itinerary of your trip. If it's impossible to get word to family and friends that you're OK, contact a consulate and give permission to relay the message. The U.S. government organizes evacuations when a location is unsafe, but in a sense, it's like Social Security: You're better off not counting on it. Stop procrastinating and start getting prepared Make a photocopy of your passport. Write down contact info for your health insurer, credit card companies, and bank. Find out if, and how, your health insurance works abroad. Have sleeping pills handy.

Inspiration

Athens, Georgia

When Michael Stipe wrote "Shiny Happy People," the R.E.M. front man, a former University of Georgia art student, must have had Athens in mind. The 100,000 residents have a number of reasons to smile: The indie music scene Athens is the southern seat of independent music, with R.E.M. playing the part of local boys made huge. It all started in 1979 at Wuxtry Records, where Stipe was a regular and Peter Buck a clerk (197 E. Clayton St., 706/369-9428). They then picked up their other two bandmates, also UGA students, in Athens. R.E.M., the B-52's, and Widespread Panic all played the 40 Watt Club early on in their careers. The club has changed locations a few times; the latest venue, where Sufjan Stevens recently performed, has a tiki bar (285 W. Washington St., 706/549-7871). A bulldawg with spirit Sanford Stadium--despite its 92,746 capacity--sells out well in advance for big football games. Scoring a ticket is tough without an alumni connection, though it's not impossible; scalpers usually hang around outside. The university's athletic teams are known as the Georgia Bulldogs, and locals twang it out slowly and proudly, spelling it "dawg" on T-shirts. The school mascot, Uga VI, is the latest in a line of English bulldogs. Uga and his ancestors have gained national renown as the stars of a 2004 "dogumentary" called Damn Good Dog, which chronicles 48 years of beloved Ugas--trotted out at the beginning of each game--and the Savannah family that has cared for them. (It's pronounced uh-guh, by the way.) Spirits with bite The signature drink at the Manhattan Cafe, a cool dive downtown, is Maker's Mark and Blenheim's spicy ginger ale (337 North Hull St., 706/369-9767). On occasion, aspiring rock stars, emboldened by one too many, play the room. Food for the people Dexter Weaver has been behind the counter at Weaver D's, a soul-food restaurant east of downtown on the North Oconee River, for 19 years (1016 E. Broad St.). Weaver is marvelously predictable. After he takes an order for plates of fried chicken, mac and cheese, or warm apple cobbler (platter with two sides $8), his favorite thing to say is "Automatic for the people." The phrase--a promise for quick service--went national when R.E.M. got Weaver's permission to use it as the title of the band's 1992 album. A liberated tree A white oak on Finley and Dearing streets is known as the Tree That Owns Itself. In 1832, the professor who owned the land deeded the tree--and some land around it--to the tree. When the oak was uprooted in 1942, the Junior Ladies' Garden Club planted its replacement, which the nice ladies continue to keep well-watered today. Many green acres - NO LONGER OPEN Grand Oaks Manor B&B, five miles outside of town, is an impressive 1820 antebellum mansion on a 34-acre estate (6295 Jefferson Rd., 706/353-2200, grandoaksmanor.com, from $129). The full breakfast, included in the nightly rate, regularly features caramel apple French toast and is served in proper southern style--on china, of course.

Why Haven't You Heard of . . . Dahshur?

Nothing can dispel the wonder of the majestic pyramids at Giza, outside of Cairo--but the KFC and Pizza Hut across the street come pretty close. Then there are the hawkers trying to sell head scarves and rides on camels named Michael Jackson. Inside the Great Pyramid, what should be an impressive view of the pharaoh's final resting place is usually obstructed by hordes of sweaty, noisy tourists. Fifteen miles south, however, at the other end of the Egyptian pyramid field, is Dahshur. It's where the ancient king Snefru built two pyramids, both of which are as intact as those raised at Giza by Snefru's son Cheops, the famous second pharaoh of the Fourth Dynasty. One, the Red Pyramid, is the second largest in Egypt--just 120 feet shorter than Cheops's Great Pyramid. It's the only Dahshur pyramid open to visitors. Inside, there's not much to it: A ramp leads down to an antechamber, from which a modern staircase ascends to an empty burial chamber. As with many other pyramids, its contents were looted by grave robbers, and anything that remained was removed by archaeologists for studying. Dahshur's second pyramid, the Bent Pyramid, changes from a 54-degree to a 43-degree slope around halfway up. It's unclear why, but a popular theory holds that Snefru realized the original plan would have been too ambitious, requiring an excessive amount of materials, so he had his builders change course in the middle of construction. Unlike the Giza pyramids, a large part of the reflective limestone casing on the Bent Pyramid is still intact, so it looks much like it did when it was erected four thousand years ago. Dahshur is an inconvenient hour-long ride each way from Cairo, and the half-day taxi rental costs about $15. And the pyramids' facilities are meager, with only two outhouses. Yet, according to officials, Dahshur still gets 640,000 visitors a year--that's about 6 million fewer than Giza. Or does it? Over the course of a two-hour visit in August, only five people showed up. It was so quiet, in fact, that a police officer kindly extended this visitor an invitation to tea. Egypttourism.org, $4.50.