The Hilton:
I've been travelling a lot lately. Business of course. I stay home for "fun". My most recent escapades began in L.A. I flew into LAX Thursday afternoon and hooked up with the local guy to help him out with a seminar on Friday. All went well and we headed to Hawaiian Gardens to play some cards. It was my first trip there, so I got on the list and walked around to check out the scenery. I was pleasantly surprised at the layout and I totally dug the parrots. I finished $600 winner and we hit the road to the airport.
The security line was the most excruciating thing I've seen in years. Made the SFO United line look efficient. When I finally made the hike (literally, I fucking hate LAX) to my plane the gate area was empty. No gate attendant, and a couple of passengers milling around the tunnel. I went to another gate and got an attendant. When we arrived back at the gate, the regular attendant emerged from the tunnel. This can't be good. Eight other people rushed up to the gate just then and shoved in front of me, but I've already seen this scene many times before.
They freak out, she apologizes, they continue to freak out, she apologizes profusely and informs them that they can't get on the plane. They lose all control over reason and completely freak out, she apologizes again, they reach the verge of tears, she apologizes. She types a bit on the terminal; nope, no more flights to the Bay Area today on any airline. Everyone freaks out and keeps whining like it will make a difference. I then say, "Hello? Excuse me. Ya, so I just rebook at the ticketing counter right?" "Yes," she says, but I'm already ten steps away while everyone else continues to lose control to no avail.
Did I mention that the plane is still sitting at the gate? However, it doesn't matter at this point. United has technically pushed from the gate so they get to chalk up an on-time departure. Such is life when you travel for a living. I rebook for the only open flight, 6:50 AM because it's one of only two that aren't sold out for Saturday. Attendant says something about Spring Break and students, but I really don't care. "So you have the 6:40 and the 6:50 as options" she asks. "Give me the 6:50, I want to sleep in," I tell her.
Next, I'm off to check into the Hilton LAX getting one of the last two rooms; welcome home LOL (for those that don't know me well, I practically lived in that hotel for the better part of 2 years). 11:38 PM, now I can finally crash for a couple of hours. 4:30 AM wakeup call. I love travelling for a living. Next morning, I was right as rain and no troubles making it home. Got some sleep on the plane, but decided to take a nap after I ran some errands in the A.M. Need to get ready for my Monday flight.
The Opus:
Next stop, Canada! I check my bag and do a connection from SMF to SFO on United (cuz I know that I'll be too tired to drive home from SFO). The gate agent tells me that I'll need to go to the International terminal to get to the Canada flights. I make my way to the interterminal tram and reach the new International terminal, MASSIVE! I walk a country mile until I finally find some ticket counters with agents and they tell me that Alaska runs their Canada flights out of the domestic terminal. Ugh! I walk all the way there because it's faster than taking the tram the long way around (3 more country miles). They check me in and I make it through security without incident. Then I find the gate and it's right next to the duty free. Seinfeld rings instantly through my head, "We like to stop, at the Duty Free shop..." I find a great deal on Scotch for $30 off the best price I can get, Johnnie Walker Blue... Mmmm, 50 year old Scotch is so tasty, and they throw in a fifth of JW Gold (18 year, but not bad) since I spent over $125. Good deal done better!
The plane boards for Vancouver and the Duty Free guy hands me my goodies as I board. Pretty uneventful flight, I just do my usual routine and put my noise canceling headphones on and rock (Thank you Microsoft!). You can't hear shit for engine noise with those noise cancelling headphones and you can still hear the conversations that matter. The Flight Attendant, "what would you like to drink?" That's a key one for a lush like me. Except this trip I came prepared with my own liquid gold. I grabbed the fifth of Johnnie Walker Gold and worked my way through it. I also chowed down on Jerkey Beef, cuz I'm also a meat snacks addict. BD said to avoid eating a big meal because we were going to meet up with some Vancouver partners for a good dinner.
We touched down in Vancouver. No more Beef Jerkey. No more 18-year old Scotch. No buzz either. That's just wrong. I make it to Customs and find a rather bored and angry looking attendant. Just then I get a stab in the small of my back, "Stick 'em up!" It's BD, he should have arrived a half hour earlier, but this works out nicely. Mr. Personality behind the customs desk gives me shit when I try and wait 15 seconds for BD to process. I choose not to argue and just walk slowly away. I couldn't fathom being incarcerated in a country where the only sports I'll get to watch are Hockey, Hockey and Hockey. At baggage claim, which I never check, I am reminded why. Fuckers lost my bag. Great. I'll spare the boring details because I'll fall asleep writing them. They give me a number to call if I don't have it by 9:00. I've seen this number before in other cities. It's the one where you call, noone ever answers, you leave a message, noone ever calls back. For good reason I'll admit, noone ever calls that number happy. "Yes, this message is for the first person to hear it. You've just won $25,000 dollars!!!" Ya, that doesn't happen.
We get in a Limo, because he'll charge us the same price as a taxi. Trick of the road warrior. ;-) NOTE: If you're in Vegas, walk across the Baggage Claim to the Limos, great deal compared to the 30+ minute wait when the cab line is 5 miles long. Half the time Limos are just waiting and waiting at airports for a fare, because most people assume that they're tripple the price of a cab. Those guys only make money when someone's in the back seat, kids. I cracked open the bottle of Blue to savor a glass on the way and try to come down from the extreme fury that the baggage dip shits put me into.
The hotel was a trendy venue that instantly reminded me of the W in San Francisco. Where they jam trendy electronic tunes in the lobby and the furniture looks more like artwork than functional ass cushions. The price was high, but we couldn't get a better rate so we took them. The room looked really nice with more trendy furniture and a nice tub in my room since upon check-in the lovely Shannon said, "We have also upgraded your room." Bless you dear woman. Want to come up later for a more personal acknowledgement of your generosity? I settled for a wink, a smile and a, "Thank you". I dropped my laptop off, checked email quickly and then went downstairs to the bar to await BD.
One of the finer points that Canada offers, which BD and I were hoping to enjoy, was the availability of Absinthe. I'd heard that it was't much of a hallucinigenic anymore because of world wide government restrictions, but it does have a really high alcohol content (ala Bacardi 151) with Anise for a Black Licorice taste. The bartender started off with a tall glass and a spoon layed across. Then he placed a sugar cube in the spoon and poured the Green Absinthe over it and into the glass. Then he struck a match and lit the sugar cube and spoon on fire. It slowly wafted and careened in an eerie Blue glow that accented the Absinthe bottle's green bottle sitting slightly behind. The sugar lightly crackled as it began to carmelize after a minute, then the bartender dropped it into the glass with the rest of the liquour. After a brief flash of Blue flame throughout the glass, he poured in the water to dillute the mixture, stirred and was through. I sipped it cleanly. A very tasty drink and I typically hate Black Licorice flavor, but this one worked for me. Be warned though, they're not for the financially faint of heart; that glass went for $11.50 (CAN). Regardless, I was still pissed that the airline fucks lost my bag.
We headed out for dinner at a swank Italian joint nearby. Good entertaining spot, great food and all seemed right with the world. We headed back to the Opus hotel had a nightcap with the bar jamming. "Just like the W", I told BD. The beautiful people were decked out and sipping trendy cocktails, I was still in jeans and sneakers. Although I never really care about appearances, but I must have seemed out of place with the suit and tie crowd. We called it a night and upon entering my room, still no bag. FUCK! My temperature was rising fast. I left a message on the voice mail that noone ever checks, then I just HAD to run a hot bath to try and chill before crashing. The Opus has a wall length window between the bath and the room, so that I could soak and watch some TV at the same time. I sank into the tub and felt relief settle around me while I sipped a glass of Blue. I slept well.
Tuesday rolled around and I woke calm and delighted. Still warm from the long soak. I slid out of bed and shut off the alarm, then called down for toiletries. Checked email then answered the prompt knock and began getting cleaned up. Shitty razor, man am I spoiled by the Mach 3. I called the voice mail that noone checks and left another message, then we were off to do some business, in jeans and sneakers. Good meetings, but my mind was on the after work partner get together. I sometimes get that way, when I appear completely focused functional to the outside world, but my mind is in another dimension. It just comes from being really good at my job and reading people like open pages in a book that I've already memorized.
The airline fucks called me finally. They wanted a "better" description of my bag. Pause for mind altering, "What the fuck!?!?!" Needless to argue, they still couldn't find it, but said that they'd had lots of trouble with bags from SFO recently. "That makes me feel so much better," I replied coldly. I gave them a detailing of the contents, because that "sometimes helps" the idiot said. "Ya, well I'm off to Calgary tomorrow, then returning home on Friday, so having my bag at some point between now and Friday would be a big plus", I ended the call and went back to my last meeting.
I tried another Absinthe back at the Opus which turned out even better than before. However, without the traditional Wormwood infusion it was really nothing more than a tasty liquor, but a great presentation that turns heads. The entertainment industry crowd showed up on cue and the electronic music got cranked up. Sneakers and Jeans sat at the bar sipping his drink and eye-Fucked the beautiful people. We entertained another partner and the night ended much like the previous; me walking into my room pissed. Fucks lost my bag. I flipped on the bathroom light. GOT TO run another hot bath to chill. Shitty single-blade razor. Throw the jacket across the bed. Still gotta fuckin unpack my bag. Gonna be rinkled as hell. Flip on the TV. Shit. Shit. Who watches this shit?... Wait. Unpack?
(to be continued)
Nicholas has left the 3s