As the man in row 17 kicks off his shoes–no socks!–and lays full out across 3 seats with his toddler kids on his ample belly, the squat troll beside me shifts in his sleep and emits a luxurious fart.
Somewhere behind me a baby screams, and the Korean couple across the aisle decide now is the time to open the jar of kimchi they’ve been saving for lunch.
I have to remind myself that I am not on the Mumbai Rajdhani Express.
No, this is Southwest Airlines, people!
Alright, enough with the bitching about air travel, we got work to do!
I eventually end up on the East Coast, a night before the fellas, and check into the swanky Holiday Inn Express in Brooklyn.
Did I say Holiday Inn Express? phfft…believe me, this joint is on par with the finest Holiday Inns, period!
Had just enough time to drop the bags and grab a drink or 2 at the Cherry Tree before the effects of pressurized cabin atmosphere and gravity itself threatened to bring me to my knees. A bite to eat and bed, but what to eat?
Ya know, I had grand visions of late night dining in the big city, perhaps meeting up with Eric Ripert after his shift and eating roasted bone marrow off the eyelids of a supermodel….
But no. What do I find open in the city that never sleeps, hmm?
How about a Citgo station where the kindly Nigerian attendant let me use the microwave…….
Ah well. Backup arrives soon enough and off into the night we go.
The usual first night shenanigans, Cherry Tree and Trash Bar, etc etc—-
Kimm takes a header walkin out of the bar, but we prefer to tell people he got wounded stopping 3 Muslim terrorists from raping a nun……
As noon breaks on Friday, day one of tour, it all comes back to me now. The hangovers and cramped rooms, irate maids knocking on the door and demanding if we wants our room did…..
Back on the road, and we take our positions as obedient and resigned as a prostitute strapping on the platform heels on Friday night, ready to sell herself all over again!