Some lowlights from the traveling BeachBum show. Hit DC, Virginia, and Baltimore in a work/suck fest of a weekend. Was hoping to have the Pats end it on a high note, but even they let me down.
My weekend from hell actually started on Thursday when flying to DC I managed to get some shampoo confiscated, my carry on tested for explosives and, to top it all off, left my MP3 player on the plane. Didn't realize until 3 hours later it was gone. Wife was blowing it off as trivial until I reminded her the new Bose headphones she gave me for Christmas were attached to said player. At which point she responded, "FUCK, call the airline, call the airport. Find them!!" Thanks for the suggestion, honey.
Saturday I managed to finagle an invitation to the French Embassy for some work related party. Open bar, so how could you go wrong, right? Well, let's start with my razor falling in the shower and slicing my ankle open. My shower was an instant replica of the Bates Motel, complete with blood swirling down the drain. 30 minutes later the bleeding was slow enough to patch it up and get ready. It's the French Embassy, so I'm still optimistic despite my shoes rubbing against the wound like they were designed for it. My optimism quickly vanished when we arrive and there is virtually no security, we have to walk an underground tunnel that is dripping what looks like anti-freeze and the area for the party looks like a college student union. Not impressed. We came in door D from the parking area and someone quipped "maybe A, B, and C are the nice rooms".
Highlight of the night: We have salmon and a piece of steak that looks like a lousy hamburger for dinner. Strange dude next to me announces he doesn't like fish and attempts to trade someone his fish for their burger...er...steak. Nobody bites and 10 minutes later he looks over to the wife of one of his co-workers and says "You going to finish your steak?" while leaning over, his fork poised. She instantly gets this hunted, prison look on her face and puts her arm around her plate to protect it. "Yes! I.....AM!!" and stares him down until he wilts. Did I mention he didn't know this woman at all and this was a black tie event. Love the cultured life.
Sunday was my day to go home. Worked for a few hours and finished early, so hey, get to the airport and get myself on an earlier flight. Now I'll be home in time for the game. Unfortunately, that bitch Mother Nature decides to snow on Baltimore and we sit on the tarmac for 2 hours waiting to get de-iced. My original flight was scheduled to leave at 6:50. My new, earlier flight was for 4:45. What time did we take off, you ask? Try 7:30. By the time we landed it was halftime. At least I'll get to see most of the second half, right? Um, no. See, our plane was late so there is no gate for us. We wind up waiting another 30 minutes for a gate to open. By the time I get home there is 5 minutes left and I get to watch the Colts celebrate.
And people wonder why I have a drinking problem.
Today's distraction: Since I'm cranky from my fantastic weekend, I'm going to put a dent in your productivity the likes of which you've never experienced. Old friend of mine and I used to play this for hours on end and I still go back to it from time to time. It's like comfort food for procrastinators.