So, my standard last minute airport run nearly but me in the ass today. My flight was at 945am and I left my house at 730, 15 minutes later than I originally intended. I cab to the train...wait for 20 minutes for the train, it goes one stop and ends. We have to board a shuttle bus to go three stops, the reboard the train. I get off the train, and at ord at 855a. I quickly walk -no, I didn't run- up to ticketing and security. The first class line is packed, one TSA rep, and 500 kids trying to figure out what to do. The old man in front on me was causing problems because he couldn't walk without a cane, but they would let him take the cane through the metal detector. Damn incompetent TSA folks. So I finally get through, and as I get to my gate at 920 when we are boarding, there is no plane... A gate change. I get to the plane just in time to hear my name being called... Final warning. This is only the second time I have been on final warning... Last time was going to Miami, and I was in the bar.
I had a great flight crew on the flight from ORD-SAN. I had 6 or 7 screwdrivers...I lost count. I landed an noon, got to the hotel by 1pm, checked in and hit the town. I'm staying right next to the convention center, and less than a 10 minute walk to the Gaslamp district. Lunch at a brewery, al fresco. I abso-goddamn-lutely love dining al fresco, as you can see.
I came back to the hotel to sober up, and take a little nap before going out tonight. I think I'm going to find a sushi place and have a relaxing dinner. No one from the office is in town yet -- but we have a couple other friends in town -- I am not going to call them though...if they call, great, if not, I'll see them later.
So far, I love this city.
Oh, and my cab had shit in it, and some greasy sticky mess got on my se7ens. I hope it can get cleaned...these are my favorite jeans.