Travel has become a surreal experience. My morning began with Boris the giant eastern European driving me to the airport and luckily this morning his breath didn’t reach into the back seat and mule kick me with the smell of hot garbage. Seriously last time he drove me I got an instant and crystal clear picture of a garbage truck broken down for a couple days in the desert. The contents liquefy from the heat and that’s what my driver takes a shot of to wake himself up in the morning. I did some preventative mouth breathing on the way in because I still have flashbacks to the last ride.

Then I get to the airport, fly through security like I’m the only one who doesn’t know it’s national crash you plane day, and have an hour and a half to kill at the gate. Most of that time was taken by watching the paramedics, security, the police, and gate agents try to figure out what was wrong with the very old and very confused woman that they wheeled off of flight. This is where the whole new security regulations fall apart for me. This poor woman probably had someone waiting for her on the other side of the barrier but she was stuck at the gate unable to communicate her needs. They were trying to decide on an ambulance ride when I had to board. I wanted to go try and talk some sense into them but the TSA folks have more power and less training that I am comfortable with so I walked away.

My cab on the way to this hotel was breaking down the entire forty dollar ride. I know this because the driver kept on chanting “come on baby, just a little longer” and driving forty on the highway. The good news is that I still smell like burning plastic and rubber.

One final note: If I ever take a cruise again I will demand a meeting with the Captain before we set sail just to make sure he isn’t a complete pussy. I know there’s more to this story like they’re going to find his shoe print on the back of one of the dead. Must have skipped the class on going down with your ship at captains school. Wow.