8:30 am. Hartsfield-Jackson Airport.
I’m not as exhausted as I thought I’d be. I haven’t gotten much sleep the past few days, but find myself reasonably energized. Must be the Caribbean Craze smoothie I’ve been sipping on the past 15 minutes.
I actually considered purchasing Wi-Fi service at Hartsfield for the first time this morning, but reconsidered after finding out that it was $8/day (I’m actually posting this in the afternoon after I arrived at my hotel in TX). They won’t even let you pay per hour; they just charge a flat fee. Ain’t that some shit? Most folks are paying $8 to surf the internet for an hour.
So, if you have a minimum wage-ish job, then you would actually be losing money if you used the airport Wi-Fi. Crazy.
Now…if I had an iPhone, I’d be snickering giddily as I raised the bar on my 3G network, but alas, I am but a cellular slave to T-Mobile. Do-boy perhaps?
I’ve done enough traveling now where the ATL airport feels familiar. Like the nooks and crannies of it. Whenever I go to Terminal C, I already know what restaurants they have. I know where the Seattle’s Best Coffee shop is too. Is that good or bad?
Then We Came to the End. This is a book I picked up about an hour ago from a bookstore on Terminal D. It’s supposed to be an Office Space-like comedic novel. When motivated, I generally can finish an entire novel on one trip. Half of it on the departure flight and half of it on the arrival. A large majority of my reading is done at the airport or up in the sky. And the rest of my reading? Mostly on the can at the crib.
What can I say? I need to be entertained at all times. These are the ABCs of me baby!
I think that the key to a good comedy is having hilarious punchlines and one liners. A great comedy will have you quoting it for years to come.
“How’s it going with the ladies, McLovin?”
“It’s not the going that I’m worried about with the ladies…it’s the coming.”
A little TMI and vulgar…but funny. Good stuff.
Now…Tropic Thunder…that was a funny ass movie. Immensely funnier than Pineapple Express. Not even close. Robert Downey Jr. was hilarious.
The following rant takes place between 10pm and 12:45am on Sunday.
I’m not one to stereotype…who am I kidding…of course I am, but…how come folks who promote hip-hop parties are such greedy, insolent assholes? These guys don’t honor shit. How come the admission is dependent on the amount of folks dumb enough to wait in line for hours (like us)? It is the CLASSIC bait-and-switch technique. Say something intriguing enough to entice folks to come out, then either hold up the line or jack up prices. What’s even more FUBAR is that a lot of these folks were from out of town, so their incentive to get in was more heightened than ours. They came from out of town to party…so their breaking point is a lot higher than than the average degenerate party goer. So, not only do they get bamboozled and bent over, but they grit their teeth and ask for more. That shit just ain’t right. Whatever happened to honoring one’s word and not figuratively pushing everyone’s shit in?
But I didn’t exactly boycott or protest. I waited my brown ass in line for nearly 3 hours to get in. An hour and half was spent in the VIP line and another hour and a half in the regular line. But…I gotta say…that shindig was well worth the Andrew Jackson we ended up spending to get in. Good music, good crowd, and strong drinks. One of the better parties I’ve been to this year. Respect.