Back in Atlanta

My flight isn't until 13:14. No rush to get up. I start pottering around at about 8:00.

After going through my emails and writing up yesterday's events I pack up my stuff. I check out in the shop a little before 10:00 and ask them to call me a taxi. Ten of fifteen minutes it’ supposed to be.

I stand outside in the sun and read Private Eye to pass the time. Sweating in the sun in a very English, low-key way. When no taxi has appeared after 30 minutes, I go back inside to see what's happening.

"They've probably been delayed. It's Monday and a lot of people are going home."

OK then. Not totally reassuring. Just as well I’ve left a shitload of time. That’s the way I roll now I’m an oldie person. Paranoid and assuming everything will take me longer than expected.

When almost an hour has passed, I ask:

“Can you get me an Uber? I'll give you $60.”

He rings the taxi company again. Evidently, they picked up someone else. Fucking brilliant. He orders me an Uber and he asks for 40 dollars. A small price to pay for not missing my flight. It comes in less than 5 minutes.

I'm at the airport 1.45 hours before my flight is due. Plenty of time. Though checkin takes a bit longer than I expected.

Not having eaten, I pick up a sandwich and a bottle of coke for the flight. Then go and sit at a bar.

"A double Jack Daniels, no ice, please."

I've around 20 minutes to kill before boarding. May as well kill off some brain cells at the same time.

I restrict myself to just the two. $44, before tip. Fuck me, airport bars are expensive. I could have bought two bottles of cheap bourbon for that.

The gate isn't far. Once again, I time it perfectly, rolling up just as priority boarding is ending. I stroll right on board.

This time, I watch a weird Danish film called Another Round (at least in English). It's about a group of teachers who use alcohol as a performance-enhancing drug. Inevitably, it all goes horribly wrong. Though I don't get to see the ending. It's almost 2 hours long and I'm only three-quarters of the way through when the flight lands.

For some reason, I don't recognise my bag and let it whirl past a couple of dozen times before I pluck it from the carousel. How often have I travelled with this bag? What is wrong with me?

A taxi quickly drops me at my hotel. I recognise this place. I've stayed here before. It has all the scary internal balconies.

I’m on the fourteenth floor. But I’m staring up at most of the surrounding buildings. It’s a typical high-rise American downtown.

Luggage dumped, I head the couple of blocks to Sol's Liquor to pick up some whiskey for the kids. The challenge is to find something not stocked by Ton Overmars. I buy two bottles of some weird-looking cheap stuff. Pretty certain they won't have that.

Back in the hotel, I wander to the rear to take a look at the cafeteria. A voice behind me says:

"Excuse me sir. Are you a guest?"

It's security. Do I look that dodgy? It must be my crazy old man wild hair. I show him my key card. He seems satisfied, though somewhat begrudgingly.

I buy a bag of salt and vinegar crisps in the cafeteria. $2.99. The thieving bastards. It's not even a big bag.

This is annoying. Every time I touch a metal object like a door handle, I get a static electric shock. Just enough to be irritating.

My original plan was to go to Max's Lagers for beer and food. But I'm feeling lazy. Knacked, really. Despite doing fuck all today other than wait around. Instead, I stroll down to Hsu's, just three blocks away. For dumplings, fried rice and a Sweetwater 420. The food is OK, especially when I beef it up with soy sauce and hot sauce.

Back in my room, I watch Match of the Day 2 while I'm waiting for the Covid test result to roll in. Which it does, well before 23:00. I try to check in online. It doesn't work. I upload my vaccine certificate and give it another try. Still no joy. I'll just have to make sure I get to the airport really early.

Around 23:30, I feel peckish. I wander downstairs hoping to get some crisps from a vending machine. Without much hope of getting anything substantial. But the cafeteria is still open. I get a pastrami sub. Almost $10 it costs me.

The sandwich isn't bad. It's just the cost that sticks in my throat. I follow it down with some sleeping whisky. My last full day is done.


Sol's Liquor
186 Courtland St NE,
Atlanta, GA 30303.
http://solsliquor.com/


Hsu's Gourmet
192 Peachtree Center Ave NE,
Atlanta, GA 30303.
https://www.hsus.com/