Babies first real adventure
I told you that I had a new job, right? Instead of working on the internet tubes I’m now working on the “telling people about champagne and wine” tube. So far it’s pretty interesting after the initial shock of the complete lifestyle change.
Exhausted
I’m writing this from a Best Western hotel in Bozeman. It literally took me about a minute to finish that sentence because I couldn’t remember where I was. For the past week I’ve been flying around Utah, Idaho, and Montana. These are what most would call ‘under served’ markets. I’ve had two lovely traveling companions. One who is the man with the itinerary and the other is along for the ride to learn things (from me; amazing in itself).
Start: Crap
Monday morning. My flight to Salt Lake City leaves at some ungodly hour. 7? I think it was 7.
I get to JFK and go through security. All is well. Walk all the way to my gate. Good timing.
Get my ticket.
Wait for them to call my zone.
“Hmmm, I packed pretty awesome as this bag is super light!”
Upon opening my bag (to appreciate how light and well packed it was) I notice that my computer isn’t the bag. Oh shit.
First, I never forget things. It’s not my thing.
I run. I run like Forrest Gump. The security gate I went through was technically in the next terminal so I haul ass down the many movable walkways. Past other security gates. Past other terminals.
Of course my computer is safe and sound and the TSA guy was glad to see me.
I run back.
Suckage. The issue is that two things just happened:
(1) I ran hard and fast and my shins friggin hurt now
(2) Sweat is now pouring off me. Into my shirt. My suit.
Salt Lake City
We were staying in the “rough” part of town we were told. It naturally wasn’t rough at all. Nice people there as well. Went up to Park City and did a weird party thing and then had dinner. The laws in Utah are crazy and being that we work for an alcohol company I was constantly asking one of my comrades, “How many laws will I break if I do the following?”
Crazy laws
Montana
Missoula was cute. Great mountain views abound. Streams. Punk rock kids fly fishing. Champagne was drunk. We had dinner at a place called Pearl which was lovely.
The next day we drove to Bozeman (I had to remember again where I was) and the drive was super pretty. Big sky! Mountains. Rocks. Tiny telephone poles. I did one seminar/wine tasting thing in Bozeman and friggin’ killed it. Great times. They asked me to saber a bottle which I did and didn’t kill anyone.
Home
Tomorrow I leave Bozeman at 6am. I will miss the big sky and the mountains and the red-haired waitress who took care of us one night. I will miss the fine Marriott Courtyard café/breakfast thing and my new pals from the trip.
But, my throat feels sore and my clothes are all dirty and I miss my red-haired Mrs. Robot and my white-painted Mr. RobotBike.
