I’ve been on the road for eight days with four more days to go and I am cold, tired, and desperately want to poop in my own toilet. The trip started in Florida which was delightful because, although I’m traveling for work, I got to visit my grandparents. Any opportunity to see them is appreciated and my job has afforded me that multiple times in the past year. After Florida I flew to Atlanta, Georgia then drove to Athens. From there I drove to Charlotte, NC then Raleigh, NC where I was able to dine on pulled pork (which is not a euphemism for gay sex) and have laughs with one of my oldest friends (and by “laughs” I also don’t mean “gay sex”).
Whereas I typically have good luck with weather, traffic, and airlines when I travel, this came to an abrupt halt when US Air called to inform me, as I arrived at the Raleigh airport, that my flight was delayed by an hour. No big deal, right? No, not if my connecting flight wasn’t scheduled 15 minutes after my original flight was supposed to land. Commence kicking me in my balls repeatedly in lieu of the soon-to-be-torturous flight situation. Upon checking back with the US Air counter a second time (the first they said I was going to make my connection), they kindly put me on a Delta flight that took me from Raleigh to Atlanta where I got to enjoy a three hour layover before my flight Cincinnati Airport which, by the way, is in Kentucky. My luck changed for the not-at-all when I landed in Cincitucky Airport at midnight because, after waiting in the 25 degree cold for the Enterprise shuttle, I decided to call to find out when it wasn’t ever coming. Seems that they close at 10pm which makes perfect sense because no one flies in later than 10pm or has a flight delay that’s beyond their control. And, should someone fly in after 10pm and be stupid enough to want to pick up their pre-paid rental car, they shouldn’t expect that the business they’ve already paid would have pre-alerted them to the fact that IT WON’T HAPPEN. The tide turned slightly when I called the Hilton who promptly sent the shuttle to retrieve me and place me gingerly on the doorstep of their inn moments later where the innkeeper presented me with a delicious cookie. A motherfuckin’ delicious cookie.
Then, much to my surprise, things changed.
I drove from Cincitucky to Cleveland which was smooth sailing. Even got in a good workout at my hotel before watching Arrested Development on Netflix until my delicate, beautiful baby blue eyeballs got fuzzy and I drifted off to dreamland where I had the following dream about my girlfriend and texted it to her:
First and foremost, by “torn” I meant “to run” and by “n” I meant “in”. Secondly, and second most, why would I listen to a homeless guy, as if he knows what stores have the best sales. Thirdly, but certainly not least, my ample quads and supple buttocks would look good in daisy dukes. I wouldn’t necessarily wear them (in public), but that doesn’t negate how well I’d rock them.
Now I’m in NYC until Wednesday evening when I leave for Pennsylvania where I will be until Friday. As much as I enjoy mingling with the unwashed masses of America, I can’t wait to be back home where the people are normal. Los Angeles, I miss you.
About the Author (Author Profile)
I’m a writer, blogger, comedian, and all around genius.