Sunday, November 12, 2006
Barfly
Either purposefully or unpurposefully some company has left their wireless completely unprotected here at DTW. I sit in the "Irish Pub" (I assume some sort of marketing sneezitch of Guiness Corp--are they owned by Miller/Busch whoever now?) and have decided I have a moment to type. Yesterday was running solid for me from 5:30 a.m. to midnight (both Mountain time.) Busy is the name for conferences when you take on leadership positions.Anywhosits since I don't write about my professional existence here, I feel I am breaching some confidence: even if it is with myself. I suppose Dr. Write might think my unwillingness to blog about my professional existence here as somehow unwholesome--or at least too compartmentalized. I prefer, however, to keep the job and all it entails mostly in its little cage in the attic--or is it the other way round? Anyway the professional commitments allow me to travel a lot so that, naturally, intrudes upon my personal life.
A guy right next to me just swilled a Tanqueray and something. Pre-flight jitters?
The best thing about this trip was a poetry slam last night led by local poet (and poetic impresario) Jeff Kass. I am not much on poetry slams as I think they are cliquish and generally ripe with the disaffected who feel they have a right to whine in quasi-poetry about anything and everything, but these kids were generally interesting to listen to--even the kid who had a poem about getting caught beating off--simply because he explained he wanted to get up in front of a crowd and recite about the most uncomfortable thing he could think of.
Now next to me is a teenager with a gold card trying to order a bloody mary and a beer. "Do you have some ID to show me?" the bartender asks. She is jaded and has a spider tattoo on her arm. The teenager runs off.
After the poetry event my professional friends and I headed off to an Ethiopian restaurant where we ate communally. Ethiopian food is more like Inidan than I expected.
So here I sit, working on my second New Castle, and now I think I've sort of become a barfly. A blogging barfly with my stuff strewn around the bar. It seems uncomfortable even for an airport. Security makes me come to the airport early, so I have a while to wait. ¶ 10:59 AM
Listen to this article
Comments:
Sounds like good fun. Yumm, Newcastle. Can't get that in a grocery store in Utah.
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posted by middlebrow :
10:28 PM
-Oh yeah!-
Ah, the traveling businessman. Interesting paradigm. All you need is a couple of other dudes bursting with testosterone because they're away from their significant others/family etc., and you all could go to the local strip club!! After hitting on the female bartender, of course.
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posted by Swamp Crotch in AZ :
10:44 AM
-Oh yeah!-
SC, going to strip clubs is completely unacceptable in my line of work.
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posted by theorris :
12:18 PM
-Oh yeah!-
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