Fri Nov 11, 2005 2:45
Ahoy hoy. Today is Thursday - unless you live in Australia in which case today is Friday. Friday arvo no less and the thought of cool refreshing well deserved amber beverage(s) after a long weeks work is more or less* crossing the mind of the average Aussie punter at this time.
Yesterday morning (Wednesday) I woke filled with fear. Oh shit I've missed the plane! I thought. I quickly checked the time and it was 6:25am. Oh, phew! 6 hours and 10 minutes to take-off. What should I do? While I was thinking about this I closed my eyes and slept.
Dreams. I dreamed I was sitting next to George Gregan and the little man was curled up snugly in a comfy rug when an attractive lady came up to me and asked if I'd like to hold Mr. Gregans fish. Flattered, I was about to say yes but suddenly George started making an alarming sound, and I said "what's that alarming sound George?". The attractive lady said: "That's your alarm". "Hmm, I see" I replied, and after thinking about this for some time I woke up.
The flight was at 12:35pm and I didn't want to be late. In fact I wanted to be early so I could take advantage of the Qantas lounge. Yes, the Qantas Lounge. So I got to the airport by half past nine and by 10am I was drinking beer.
RULES OF BEER CONSUPTION (i):
I know there are rules about morning beers, and I don't know if this is one of them. If it isn't then I submit it for inclusion.
When travelling between time zones it is ok to order a beer in the morning if the time zone of destination is now afternoon or evening.
(Perhaps a list of morning beer reasons should be published somewhere on this site. Paddy?)
To get to New York you need to go via LA. It's a 13 or 14 hour flight. I was one of the first on board and I hoped and I hoped as I sat there at my seat that the person sitting next to me would be a super model. In fact, she didn't even need to be super. Any kind of model would be fine except hand models and male models. I crossed my fingers and held my breath for a very long time hoping it would be so. I was still waiting when suddenly this guy looked at me and said - hey, how ya doin'? Good question, I thought. Eyes bulging, about to explode, I exhaled quickly and panted the reply: Hi-i'm-good.
I arrived in LA at about 6 in the morning. Six and a half hours before I got on board. I had to go through customs. Good fucking god! You have not seen a queueue until you've arrived in America. Finally after getting through I went to the Qantas Lounge (yes, the Qantas Lounge) and ordered a Budweiser.
RULES OF BEER CONSUMPTION (ii)
When travelling between time zones it is ok to order a beer in the morning if the time zone of departure is now afternoon or evening.
Unfortunately it was raining when I landed at LAX (what does the X stand for?) so I didn't get to see much. Between LA and New York the impression of America that I got was that it is a very cloudy country. Nice clouds though.
Finally I arrived at JFK - notice the way I'm just throwing around the lingo as if everybody should know exactly what I'm talking about? Cool, hey? There was a driver there to pick me up. I asked him if it was far. He said no, about 12-15 miles. I asked if there would be much traffic at 5:30pm. He said no, probably not. Two and a half hours later I arrived at the hotel. It was dark, rainy and stormy and I saw nothing of the city that was New York on the journey. The only thing I noticed about USA while driving was that Americans haven't really caught on to the phrase "sporty hatch". American cars a shitty hunks of worthless metal without exception (except for a dodge viper and a Pontiac).
I watched TV (13 channels) for a while and then finally slept. Nothing amusing or interesting happened.
Thus concludes the longest Wednesday I ever had. I'll update Thursday tomorrow. Anyway, Pigs - good luck tomorrow (Saturday). I'll be working, probably. While writing this I drank 48 fluid ounces of beer (24 Coors, 24 Budweiser - each in can form). Like you, I don't know how much that is - but they're pretty bloody big cans, for cans.
Some context. The dream featuring Gregan is actually a reference to a Qantas television commercial that was on at the time. In the commercial George is sleeping as the stewardess is serving meals, so one of his team-mates (I can't remember who) says (with a poorly acted cheeky grin) that (note: this will be the last set of brackets in this sentence) he can hold Georges meal for him.
There are references to some people. They are Pigs. The Pigs are a cricket team. This was originally posted on their website but it's gone now but I liked it so here it is.
Read part 2