I'm going to New Orleans, for a bachelor party, I've saved $1000 for this event. I stole the "Culture Diary" idea from The AWL, who stole it from The Paris Review, who likely came up with the idea. Here we go. Maybe it should be noted that all of this is from memory.
5:30pm - I prepare to board my Continental Flight to George Bush International in Houston, TX. I hear the middle-aged flight-attendant-woman at the gate desk make a spiteful remark about how Southwest Airline does things compared to how she (a representative of the Continental/United Airline) does things. Then I hear her calling out my name. I begin to fantasize about being upgraded to first class. When I reach the desk she hands me my 3M UV protected safety glasses that I use as sun glasses. I dropped them at some point.
6:o3pm - I'm in the plane, we're taking off. I start to think about 14o character sentences I would be tweeting, if my phone wasn't off. Most of these were jokes about being inside George Bush. In other news, the guy sitting next to me is sleeping, and smells like feet. The leg room on this plane is comical.
8:05pm - I'm inside George Bush. I eat a bag of jalapeno chips and consider buying a coffee (besides a few 20 minute "power naps", I haven't' slept in over a day). I check College Basketball scores for the tournament, I am genuinely embarrassed by my standings in the few bracket pools I've entered.
9:10pm- After a 20 minute delay I get on my next flight. It's a much larger plane with far less people. I have a whole row of three seats to myself, I am ecstatic. I purposely store items on and under each unused seat.
9:30pm - I'm flying.
10:35pm - I arrive in Louis Armstrong International in New Orleans, LA. I begin the 17 hour countdown until I can check into my hotel. I was very excited about this trip from the moment I was invited. I booked my flight immediately. Plans changed, everyone booked their flights for Friday, and the rooms for Friday. I chose to not take the $150 fee to change flights and just hang out in New Orleans all night, sleep in the airport, drink, do those sorts of things. I told no one else going on the trip that I would be there 17 hours before them.
12:00am - The no sleeping starts to really hit me hard. I've accomplished all the mindless tasks I could (bills, kickball blog entry, organize calendar, email, etc.). Anything that requires brainpower makes me fall into a light sleep. I sit amongst the homeless in the main lobby and copycat their techniques of arranging chairs and laying on sacks of clothes (their sacks look far more comfortable than my bulky luggage). I sleep, very lightly. I wake up several times, homeless people start disappearing, I bury my face deep into my bulky luggage.
3:00am - I am fully awake, though still completely exhausted. I pack up my stuff and begin walking the terminals. I consider leaving, but there are no taxis or shuttles at the airport until flights start landing again (6am).
4:00am - I'm convinced I'm being followed. I hide in a bathroom for awhile, brush my teeth, and reapply deodorant. 12 hours until I have a room.
6:00am - I pay $45 for a taxi to my hotel. The taxi is a giant SUV, I counted 8 seats and an enormous amount of trunk space. A large black women is driving, she calls me hun. I slip on the step meant to help me get into the SUV, she tells me to be careful, she said she's liable if I get injured. I laugh it off, I explain to her that I am a notorious klutz, she doesn't care. We listen to gospel music, and I begin to notice the excessive Jesus iconography throughout the car, as well as a sign next to me that says "NO HUGS. NO KISSES. NO FUNNY BUSINESS." She begins to sing along with the gospel music. I am thoroughly enjoying the ride as she weaves through traffic, flashing her brights at people driving slower than her in the fast lane, I learn a lot about her from the way she drives. At one point she honks at a car we dwarf that refuses to turn left on a yield green light. She stats yelling PG obscenities at them, follows them, rolls down her window to continue to let them know how stupid they are. We made it to the hotel and she nearly drove away with my luggage. I flagged her down and she apologized. I'm sure she realized at that moment that we're all stupid sometimes, and maybe chasing strangers in your giant SUV because of a few lost seconds is pretty stupid, too. This moment reminds of this David Foster Wallace essay.
6:30am - The hotel employees are extremely relieved that I am fully aware/understanding that I can't check-in until 4. They hold onto my luggage, and I venture out into the French Quarter as the sun just begins to show itself. Post-St. Patrick's Day drunks stumble around me. The sun sky gets brighter and the roads fill up with delivery trucks, and sanitation workers.
7:00am - I have breakfast at a fancy restaurant, cost: $40. Pictured: Eggs Benedict with crab, side of potatoes, and fresh squeezed orange juice.
8:00am to noon-ish - I hunt down a coffee shop. My first two choices aren't open at 8am, so I go to CC's Community Coffee House. It's a New Orleans based chain that feels a little too Starbucksy for my taste. Though, their internet is fast and they have coffee, I'm pretty fucking happy right now.
This may be my only post, until I depart on Monday.
