It's hard to listen to people apologize for cancelling. They're afraid, and that's not pleasant to admit. I try to encourage them to rebook for a later date rather than to cancel altogether, but most of the time they really just don't want to go anywhere. The reasons range from fear of being stuck overseas in case "something" happens here again to worry about being targets as Americans. I honestly don't think an American is a target in Hawaii, or Mexico, or Europe for that matter, but I'm no expert. I'm just one person who feels the terrorists put all their efforts into the September 11th attacks and there isn't going to be a second big event.

Well, not by them, anyway. One of my co-workers is suffering from genuine fear of biological warfare. She just doesn't know how to stop worrying about it. The gal that sits behind me was much struck by this, and stuttered something about "german... germ warfare." At which I promptly went into an Emily Littella imitation: "What's all this about German warfare? Didn't they learn anything in the 40s?" Everyone had a good laugh which relieved the tension. And yes, we have been tense. The airlines got a bail out, but we sure haven't.

I wrote a letter to my congressman about it last week. I reminded him that travel agents issue 80 percent of all airline tickets, and we helped everyone in the wake of the terrorist attacks no matter where they bought their airline ticket because we are a service industry not tied to any one vendor. We worked twice as hard and not only got no money for it, we gave money back by the fistful. If the airlines get $15 billion, then I think the travel agents should get a share of it to help us weather the tough times. I asked Representative Tom Lantos to request the airlines return our commissions to 8 percent uncapped. It won't make us rich but it will keep us in business. Believe me, the travel industry needs us. Ask Renaissance Cruises.

Well, actually you can't because they went out of business today. Last year they decided they didn't need travel agents, they didn't want to pay us commission, and they began an aggressive direct marketing campaign suggesting travel agents were ripping off the clients by overcharging. ASTA (the American Society of Travel Agents) called for an immediate cessation of travel agent sales. Result? Renaissance lost 70 percent of its sales in one month, and ditched their campaign immediately. We also got an apology. Too little too late, though. Looks like they never recovered. I know I never sold another Renaissance cruise after that.

Anyway, maybe there will be some protection for agencies and maybe there won't. What most likely will happen will be a demand by ASTA that we not have to return commissions on tickets refunded due to cancellation during the pertinent period. That would be a good start.

So let's end on a happy note, then. Let me tell you about my favorite trio of French Canadians, the Raclette sisters: Yvette, Minette, and Suzette (names changed to protect the lunatic fringe). They are from Quebec. They sound like Celine Dion. They are artificially blonde and of a certain age. Each one of them has at one time or another secretly confided to me that one of the others is much older. They are all thin, chic, tanned, energetic, enthusiastic, and completely bats. I love them, though they are exhausting to deal with. They're like the Gabor sisters on speed.

Something always goes comically or tragically awry with their trips. Yvette left her ticket on the plane, and came in determined to sue Delta for allowing her to become distracted by the movie. Suzette bought a non-refundable ticket, then realized she had completely mistaken the date, the destination, the number of days she had to travel, and the fact that it was a connecting flight; in short, she had it entirely wrong from beginning to end. Recently Minette sat talking to me about the merits of this or that itinerary, then suddenly lunged at me and grasped my wrists.

"Lucy!" she said earnestly, "You must never, NEVER wear large earrings with the glasses."

I self-consciously reached up to touch my small stud earrings. I was a bit stunned by the fashion advice, particularly as she herself was wearing enormous hoop earrings and, well, eyeglasses.

"Er, I don't actually own any large earrings," I said feebly. She laughed at the expression on my face and told me that was good, she was sure I didn't, but she wanted me to know it was a fatal, a FATAL mistake for young women.

Later in the conversation she insisted I feel her biceps. I don't remember why physical strength came up, I am sure I was trying to get her to settle on a flight time or something, but there is no such thing as a short, direct conversation with a Raclette sister.

"Feel them!" she insisted. "I am strong like the string bean!"

I felt obliged to give her bicep a tentative squeeze. Very like a string bean, I agreed. Not that I've spent a lot of time feeling beans of any sort. But it made her happy, and she bought a ticket.

Really, I'll do almost anything to get someone to buy a ticket these days. But I draw the line at feeling up any other body parts. Just so you know.

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