46 hours in h-town

2003.11.10 11.23

I'm on the plane and order a Bloody Mary. I get handed a super-tiny bottle of vodka. I'm talking itty bitty. The stewart hands me a little plastic cup filled with Bloody Mary mix. I'm incredulous. ''Hello, is this all I get for five bucks?'' The guy is all, ''Well you can have the can but you have to ask for it.'' I know they have a new policy of You Must Ask If You Want The Can. If I'm laying out five dollars for a measily airplane cocktail then I'd better get everything I've got coming to me. As small as that bottle of vodka is, if I don't dilute it several times with at least one whole can of bloody mary mix, I'd most likely strip off all my clothes and run around the cabin naked screaming, ''LOOK AT ME!! I'M THE 30,000 FOOT STREAKER!!'' I'm sure I would be violently subdued in minutes and then stowed away somewhere. Can't they foresee what these terrible new policies might lead to?

I'm at the Hertz Rental Car place and driving my ugly purple Kia out of the lot. I have to show my credentials before leaving the auspices of Hertz Proper. The guy says, ''You got a full tank of gas... and 14 miles on the car.'' I'm like, ''Excuse me? Baking powder?'' I look down at the guages and, sure enough, there are only 14 miles on the odometer. There are only 8 miles on the trip, so I'm suddenly impressed that I'm driving a brand new car. The downside is that they had sprayed some terrible deodorizer in the car that completely covered up that New Car Smell. What's up with that? It smelled like a combination of New Car Smell and Frosty Lemon. I drove the car at high speeds with all windows rolled down to get the Frosty Lemon smell out of the car.

I'm at home and I'm greeted by my hunchbacked roommate. ''Dude, I'm a hunchback,'' he says. He'd had a car battery lifting mishap earlier that had rendered him almost immobile. After stopping at the Walgreens and purchasing the proper anti-hunchback drugs (and my flirting with the short Walgreens cashier with no success), we drove to That Steak Place We Always Go To. I forget the name. It's on the corner of 249 and the Beltway. The hostess girls there are total flakes. They tell us the wait will be 30 minutes, but they have a robotic glint in their eyes that tells me they always tell everyone it will be 30 minutes, regardless. In fact, we only wait 10 minutes. They stick us in this stupid little sideroom at a table set for 6. I'm like, ''Six chairs and there are only two of us.'' The seating hostess is like, ''Well if you want to wait longer, I can get you a different table.'' I look around and notice a disgusting half-eaten wedding cake mass on a table not five feet away from my table for 6. The room is definitely one of those overflow rooms and sucks in the way of atmosphere. I agree completely to waiting ''as long as humanely possible'' in order to avoid having to eat in their closet. We are led back by the now stiff and dejected hostess to the waiting area. We end up waiting a whole 10 seconds before getting a decent table. Can you feel the love tonight? Once that bit of awkwardness was over, the dinner was great, as usual. If you have the means of going to That Steak Place I Always Eat At, make sure they don't stick you in the linen closet. Trust me on this.

I'm at Number's Night Club and some band called Thrice or Thursday or Thursday Thrice has finished playing their set. The club is reverting to We Are Still Open mode while the concert attendees disperse. My buddy Rich who left for Kuwait to do IT work was back. Apparently Kuwait sucks. Good to know. I finished off the evening watching a cute goth girl named April (or Apryl) bawl her eyes out because ''some guy wasn't paying attention to me.'' I was all, ''Hey, I was paying attention to you...'' and she was all, ''Why won't that guy pay attention to me? Am I ugly? Am I too skinny.'' At this point I figured I didn't exist so I dropped the idle banter. I drove home in my bad ass purple Kia with only 45 miles on it and that was that.

More tomorrow. I'm burned out on sharing today.

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Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed here are my own only and in no way represent the views, positions or opinions - expressed or implied - of my employers both past and present. « back to the houston \| Main \| the other half » 46 hours in h-town 2003.11.10 11.23 I'm on the plane and order a Bloody Mary. I get handed a super-tiny bottle of vodka. I'm talking itty bitty. The stewart hands me a little plastic cup filled with Bloody Mary mix. I'm incredulous. ''Hello, is this all I get for five bucks?'' The guy is all, ''Well you can have the can but you have to ask for it.'' I know they have a new policy of You Must Ask If You Want The Can. If I'm laying out five dollars for a measily airplane cocktail then I'd better get everything I've got coming to me. As small as that bottle of vodka is, if I don't dilute it several times with at least one whole can of bloody mary mix, I'd most likely strip off all my clothes and run around the cabin naked screaming, ''LOOK AT ME!! I'M THE 30,000 FOOT STREAKER!!'' I'm sure I would be violently subdued in minutes and then stowed away somewhere. Can't they foresee what these terrible new policies might lead to? I'm at the Hertz Rental Car place and driving my ugly purple Kia out of the lot. I have to show my credentials before leaving the auspices of Hertz Proper. The guy says, ''You got a full tank of gas... and 14 miles on the car.'' I'm like, ''Excuse me? Baking powder?'' I look down at the guages and, sure enough, there are only 14 miles on the odometer. There are only 8 miles on the trip, so I'm suddenly impressed that I'm driving a brand new car. The downside is that they had sprayed some terrible deodorizer in the car that completely covered up that New Car Smell. What's up with that? It smelled like a combination of New Car Smell and Frosty Lemon. I drove the car at high speeds with all windows rolled down to get the Frosty Lemon smell out of the car. I'm at home and I'm greeted by my hunchbacked roommate. ''Dude, I'm a hunchback,'' he says. He'd had a car battery lifting mishap earlier that had rendered him almost immobile. After stopping at the Walgreens and purchasing the proper anti-hunchback drugs (and my flirting with the short Walgreens cashier with no success), we drove to That Steak Place We Always Go To. I forget the name. It's on the corner of 249 and the Beltway. The hostess girls there are total flakes. They tell us the wait will be 30 minutes, but they have a robotic glint in their eyes that tells me they always tell everyone it will be 30 minutes, regardless. In fact, we only wait 10 minutes. They stick us in this stupid little sideroom at a table set for 6. I'm like, ''Six chairs and there are only two of us.'' The seating hostess is like, ''Well if you want to wait longer, I can get you a different table.'' I look around and notice a disgusting half-eaten wedding cake mass on a table not five feet away from my table for 6. The room is definitely one of those overflow rooms and sucks in the way of atmosphere. I agree completely to waiting ''as long as humanely possible'' in order to avoid having to eat in their closet. We are led back by the now stiff and dejected hostess to the waiting area. We end up waiting a whole 10 seconds before getting a decent table. Can you feel the love tonight? Once that bit of awkwardness was over, the dinner was great, as usual. If you have the means of going to That Steak Place I Always Eat At, make sure they don't stick you in the linen closet. Trust me on this. I'm at Number's Night Club and some band called Thrice or Thursday or Thursday Thrice has finished playing their set. The club is reverting to We Are Still Open mode while the concert attendees disperse. My buddy Rich who left for Kuwait to do IT work was back. Apparently Kuwait sucks. Good to know. I finished off the evening watching a cute goth girl named April (or Apryl) bawl her eyes out because ''some guy wasn't paying attention to me.'' I was all, ''Hey, I was paying attention to you...'' and she was all, ''Why won't that guy pay attention to me? Am I ugly? Am I too skinny.'' At this point I figured I didn't exist so I dropped the idle banter. I drove home in my bad ass purple Kia with only 45 miles on it and that was that. More tomorrow. I'm burned out on sharing today. « back to the houston \| Main \| the other half »