FIRST DAY ON THE ROAD
Trip Start Nov 13, 2006
55Trip End Nov 2007
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Will Ferguson, Hitching Rides with Buddha.
Sunday November 5, 2006
Well friends, in the truest sense, I've lost forward movement. I'm stuck in neutral. I'm referring to the fact that I'm wasting away at Douglas International Airport, North Carolina. Or is it South Carolina. Wait, no... this is Atlanta, but it's in the relative vicinity. Oh, it doesn't matter. I've hardly begun and i'm already very confused.
What does matter is that I'm on a seven-hour layover. It's just past noon, and I don't leave till five. I've got about as much momentum as a graveyard right now. But that's alright, I can sit here and take in the sights. No wait, no I can't, there are no sights. I'm in a huge airport brimming with weary, smelly travelers: white-haired ladies with their lattés, US Army brats, business class neckties (why do you need wheels on your pizza box-sized luggage anyway?) and more security than I've ever seen.
If I sound bitter, that's 'cause I am. Just kidding. I'm on the first leg of the journey to OZ and so what that I'm completely stalled, without hardly getting started? I can manage, but I'm gonna bitch about it, OK.
Hahahahaa... some thug just walked by wearing an oversized G-Unit shirt. G-Uuuuuuuuuuuunit!
I think once I make my way to the bar-which is conveniently placed right beside the departure display, thank gawd-I may encounter some trouble when it comes to recovering my momentum.
C'mon five o'clock.
Will check in later.
Ok, so Atlanta is right smack in the middle of the tobacco industry. I remember this because the Carolina Hurricanes-I still have to pinch myself after saying they're the reigning Stanley Cup Champs-have a rather revealing address. Something-something Tobacco Road.
Yep, yep... This is Tobacco Country.
A very civilized culture (thank you very much is the preferred statement), these Atlantans love their cigarettes. And guess what? You can smoke in the hustling bustling mess that is Douglass International. Was I pleased about that? Umm... Fuck yea! You can smoke virtually anywhere. And everyone smokes. Preggy moms. Decaying plantation papas. I thought I saw toddler perched up at the bar sucking away on a fag, but it was just a midget. Seriously. I chained smoked just to fit in.
In between puffs and ultra-polite Ps & Qs, I also nearly lost my baggage, got triple security checked, and wasted seven hours. I can't wait to return.