Bon soir, blog. It’s been a tumultuous 24 hours. Okay, let’s do this. Pay attention cause it’s going to go quick and I don’t want anyone to get left behind.
Flight 1 – My “rescheduled ticket” is somehow first class. I can live with that kind of luck. Very comfy, mildly buzzed from a stiff drink, and chatting with Roman, the affable Russian in the seat next to me. He explains quite a bit about Russian culture and the severe differences from the way of life we take for granted. Only drawback: the middle aged bitch across the aisle spent every minute, before takeoff and after landing, screaming into her cell phone about how horrible Delta is for canceling her flight without notice. No matter that it was a weather delay, and that she’s rocking first class in her baggy t-shirt and denim shorts, she’s telling the EXACT SAME STORY to every person she calls. She might be talking to a dialtone for all I know. Please shut up.
Atlanta airport – I’m starving so I hit the food court. Balls. Nothing good to choose. I opt for the meatball sandwich. It turned out to be “inspired” by an actual meatball sandwich. This tasted like soggy cardboard. No, perhaps that’s not fair (to the cardboard).
Flight 2 – Back in row 43. No more first class. It’s awfully hot, muggy, and generally unpleasant. The air comes on, relieving the heat, but it’s transported in a thick urine smell. And here comes the mouthy middle aged bitch from the first flight. And guess what, she’s on the phone, bitching about Delta.
In my row is a guy who looks like the drunken disowned brother of Eugene Levy. Very similar, but grisly looking. He’s got the Bose noise canceling headphones…probably to drown out the thoughts of how disappointed he is with his life. Across the aisle from him is an “artsy” girl with “artsy black rimmed glasses” watching Reno 911: Miami on her “artsy iPod video”. Also, her “artsy tank top” isn’t doing much to contain her chest, and I think there is a fair chance we’ll get a bounce-out if we hit some turbulence.
I snapped this photo over manhattan. See it? Look harder.
Drunken Eugene Levy is visibly annoyed when I have to use the bathroom. I consider explaining my meatball sandwich predicament, or just letting him know what a prick he is, but he won’t hear a thing with those stupid headphones on.
Courtyard by Marriott – Very nice. Too bad I’m just getting here at 1:30 in the morning. As long as there’s a bed somewhere, I’ll be happy. Oh, and the handicap accessible bathroom has plenty of room to bathe, stretch, or have a dance competition. It’s huge. Check out the lovely room (much better than the Holiday Inn).
Today – Up early to get to the shoot location. Meet with the crew and do my thing. Rocked it. There are swans in the lake outside the building. Swans. Seems like a very vulnerable species…that neck is such a liability. Talk to the turtle. See if you can learn anything.
Lunch – The only restaurant nearby is…Chili’s. Gulp. Inside the door there is a giant sign: “Like no other place.” Umm, this is an identical layout to every Chili’s built in the last four years, including the one back home. Incredibly unique. “What’s the specialite de la maison? Fajitas? Tres bon!”
After work – Hit Walgreens for some gatorade and snacks. Saw this couple awash in muskrat love, carefully evaluating their ice cream options.
Or were they shopping for something else? Perhaps something a little more, umm, Dwight Yoakam?
That’s all. Flying home tomorrow, exhausted and stuffed full of Dwight Yoakam’s Chicken Lickin’s.
PS – The Chicago Classic individual pizza from Uno Chicago Grill has over 2300 calories. And 162 grams of fat. For an individual to eat this, he or she should refrain from eating again. Pretty much forever.