Boys and girls … David James is exhausted right now. I am flying back from Shit Louis, Missouri as I write this and I can barely keep my eyes open. One day after returning from Maggotfest, I had to head to the Loo’ for an all-day, technology implementation strategy session (kill me please). The technology meeting was an utter waste of time. I totally could have dialed in to that cluster fuck call. I pretty much laid it out for them that I was not going to be traveling to St. Louis every other week like I did for a short while in 2006 (ZES got the worst of that project, though -- my apologies my man).
In order to get through Wednesday’s meetings, I had to ingest an inordinate amount of caffeine. And by inordinate, I mean “shitload.” At last count, I was up to 5 cups of coffee and 6 diet Cokes. And still, I’m nodding off in the afternoon. I wonder if it had anything to do with the subject matter -- implementation of some new “turnkey” “back office solution.” Look folks, I’m not making up these terms and I don’t personally use them, I’m just parroting them back because they were permanently etched into my memory. In fact, I kept track of the number of times “solution” and “customization” were used -- 141 times. Conversely, the term “Scarlett Johansson” wasn’t uttered a single time.
After looking at slides containing terms such as “Strategies Align with Corporate Vision,” “Business Blueprint,” and “Go Live and Support,” I was subjected to a stilted dinner with my boss and some other suffering colleagues. It mercifully ended around 8:30, after which point I was able to retire to the hotel bar to drink more with the aforementioned tortured co-workers.
Thursday included yet another 3+ hour meeting with my boss. Fuck me, why couldn’t I have drown on that whitewater rafting trip? I am pretty confident that I tortured animals in a past lifetime to deserve my current work karma.
But then, it was over. It was 3:00 and time to head to Lambert Airport. Not surprisingly, I was excited to leave Thursday but of course I had to endure the inevitable flying annoyances before I could make it home:
* I am sitting next to some over-tanned, wrinkle-saurus who keeps borrowing my magazines to read. Evidently she didn’t realize that she would be stuck on an airplane for 4+ hours with nothing to do. Fuck, what’s wrong with “Sky Mall” magazine?
* I made the mistake of using the bathroom after a guy in red shorts who ~ destroyed ~ the lavatory. Given all the chemicals and masking agents, it’s pretty fucking hard to further raise the disgusting meter. But evidently the “Little Red Crapper That Could” found a way. I’m blaming it on the pre-flight beef tacos and coffee. Well done, my man.
* I’ve experienced on-and-off turbulence for twenty minutes. I know I've mentioned this before, but there must be some travel route that doesn’t fly through the eye of whatever tornado which perches itself over the Colorado mountain range.
* Some old-ish dude just walking down the aisle just grinded my arm and shoulder with his crotch. I’m not talking about the “accidental-glance-of-my-ass-or-thigh-against-your-shoulder.” I’m talking full on “hey-birthday-boy-you-get-to-judge-the-lapdance-contest-at-Lucky-Cheng’s-restaurant-full-on-grind.” The guy just left me simpering here in my seat like Jodie Foster in "The Accused." God, I feel so dirty.
And so it went. I’m headed home to sleep … and then sleep some more. Oh, and I just signed up to play another rugby game this Saturday against a team of experienced “old boys” (i.e., 35 and older), who are usually out of shape (hooray), but dirty as shit. Oh well, should be fun. Have a great weekend kiddos and I’ll work on posting some photos/more content.
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