Orlando: Day One

I'm pretty drunk on 3-dollar-a-bottle wine right now, so I take no responsibility for this post. It was suggested by someone else and I have no idea what I'm going to write.

The first thing I need to mention is this -- you guys all failed me miserably on my flight here. I was supposed to be sitting by the window with a winsome beauty in the seat next to me, but what I got instead was a huge guy who liked to golf. Not only that, he liked to talk about golf. A lot.

He liked to talk about particular courses and particular holes, all of which I really tried hard to discourage, but that didn't seem to work. It never does with these sorts of people. So finally I pointedly ignored him and loaded up a season two episode of The Office and watched Michael trash the warehouse on Valentine's Day. I am not sure if the guy actually stopped talking or not but I didn't give a shit. I did give a shit however, when he co-opted my armrest. Fat bastard.

When I finally got off the smelly-ass plane, I walked down to baggage claim where all the Limo drivers were standing with their little signs. There was one really tall Lurch-lookin' mofo holding a sign that just said "SICKO." I tried like hell to get a picture of it, but he was getting pretty annoyed at my blatantly transparent attempts to surreptitiously take his picture with my camera phone.

I did manage to finally get a decent shot, but the shitty "high-speed" connection in this hotel won't let me upload it for some reason.

Once I got to the hotel and checked in, it turns out that floor number 8 is really broken. If you get in the elevator, all the other floors work as designed, but floor 8 does not. If you choose eight, what happens is this:

The elevator reaches what you can only assume to be floor 8 - given that the number 8 is illuminated - and the inside elevator doors open, and you start to walk toward what should by all rights be a magic archway that leads you to the hallway of floor 8 and then right before you ram your skull into steel you realize that you are being denied by an additional set of internal blue steel doors that say "sorry assknob. not today." Don't ask me how I know this, but I am now typing this from the 12th floor.

For more than 200 bills a night, I expected more from my room. My carpet is kinda thread-bare and my internet connection is ass. The clothes iron works ok, and nobody seems to have pissed in it, so it's a step up from the Scranton Marriott.

I'll tell you what though. Free wine (cheap or not) and 70 degrees at 8:30 pm makes for a nice night when you just left -4 degrees.


  1. Haha, sounds like a splendid trip so far, JV. Just save us some wine and keep up with the good times.


  2. Anonymous8:31 AM

    Could you please get drunk and get Scott and Shamus drunk and then drunk dial me? Thanks. I won't ask you to get Wayne drunk because that's a tall order. I hate you for being in Florida right now. I'm so cold.

  3. Anonymous8:31 AM

    Wait-Special Dark is with you, too? Yeah get him drunk, too.

  4. Anonymous8:57 AM

    Non-frozen bastard.

  5. Anonymous2:26 PM

    Quite possibly the first time I've ever seen someone ask to be drunk dialed. You rock Sarah!

  6. For someone on a wine-drunk you wrote exceedingly well.

  7. you know what? You're right. I am awesome at drunk typing.

  8. Anonymous5:28 PM

    You know not to sit on room couches, right? Put a towel on every surface you plan to touch, even if with your ass. Seriously. And always wear socks. And flip flops in the shower.

    Hey I just realized something. I had a dream about John Travolta last night. He was young and I was lusting after him. I woke up thinking wtf. Well, now I get it. He was the same age when he starred in, you guessed it, The Boy in the Plastic Bubble.

    I'm a sick phuck.

  9. Anonymous5:29 PM

    eh, that was me.

  10. Anonymous6:14 PM

    uh....i hate u. and b, you said both surreptitiously and assknob. good show.

  11. Uh oh - sounds like there's not going to be much work going on there. And yes, you did type well while being drunk. I guess that makes you a functioning drunk, huh?

    Glad you don't have my phone number. Y'all sound like a force to be reckoned with.

    Have fun!

  12. Anonymous8:39 PM

    Ok, it disturbs me that you do a test run on the toilet with a Kleenex. I think there is a story there.

  13. KP, you are a sick phuck.

  14. Anonymous10:02 PM

    what was in the Kleenex

  15. SERIOUSLY...The guy at the airport had a SICKO sign?

  16. I hate those armrest thieves. I've never figured out how to deal with one. Poke him? Ask him nicely?

  17. I have a fool proof way to reclaim an arm rest. I pretend to nod off while positioning my elbow just behind and parallel to the usurpers elbow. Then when they are sufficiantly off guard I streach and shove my elbow behind there's. Most times there arm pops off and mine is in it's rightful place at last. The next bit is the real key, pretend to continue to sleep while placing all your weight on the armrest to keep them from pushing it off again. As Mirim pointed out: What are they going to do? wake me up and yell at me? ;)