September 7, First Leg of Flight abroad:

It goes without saying that at first glance the beginning of a new adventure can be filled with excitement and anticipation, fortunately for me this is not my first rodeo. Leaving the house this morning I was pensive, knowing that it would be a daunting endeavor, with the end result being a super vacation. Pulling up to McCarren international airport I was surprised to see that it was relatively empty, except for the ambulance that was out front of the Delta gate it was easy. Entering the terminal, I was greeted by a line that spidered off into 4 directions, looking like a fish out of water I entered the first line I thought would get me in and out quickly. After 5 or so minutes of distress I was greeted by a attendant that just so happens to be from London. We talked for a few minutes, she got me my boarding pass, and I was finished. I had the novel idea to ask her for advice, I told her my friend Dave was currently in Rome, and I asked her what would be the cheapest way to get to London to Rome. She told me a local secret about an airline called Ryan Air, and began to further explain that their flights were extremely cheap, like $10 to fly from London to Dublin, shocked and amazed, I thanked her and proceeded to the gate. After sucking down two smokes, like they were my last ones I could ever have, I took the escalator up to the D gate, towards security check. After taking off my shoes, and removing everything from my pockets, I seemed to keep failing the walk through metal detector. I was directed toward a separate area, where I was frisked rather closely, glad I shaved my beard, who knows what might have happened. After all was said and done, I walked over to my gate, and sat down. I found it amazing the different types of people sitting around me, families, singles, lesbians and a couple of seriously hot chicks. Not to bore you with details, but after waiting about 1 hour or so I entered the plane and began my adventure.

September 7 Atlanta:


After landing in Atlanta, I was just about ready to break down the door of the plane, and rush everyone out of the way, yes I was suffering from a nicotine rush! We all deplaned, and I immediately stopped by and ask where the smoking lounge was. With directions in hand the gates opened up, and I sucked down a couple to quell the urge. I looked at my watch to see that I only had 20 minutes to board the plane, I thought I had enough time, but low and behold the gate was at the other end of the terminal. With just a few minutes to spare, I made it to the plane. Upon entering the plane, I was having horrible thoughts of who I might have to sit next to for the next 8 hours. Walking down I found my seat, and sitting next to me was a 19 year old kid, so at least I wouldn't be bothered by a stuffy old person, or a crazy Englishman. The kid was cool, he was 19 5'10" and was a MMA fighter who travelled around fighting in other countries. He is planning to go to BUDS training (Seal) and make a career in the Navy. To be honest it was refreshing to have someone so cool to talk to. After watching, Kickass, and Date Night, I tried to go to sleep, well that didn't happen, and I was extremely uncomfortable. The sun tore me up, and I could see Ireland out the window, I was stoked. We touched down and deplaned without any hassle. Well now the fun begins, walking to passports, the line was 300+ deep, and it looked bad. People were being pissy, and the kid and I made our way through. Nearing the entrance, a gentleman decided to tail us, and cut in front of everyone. He started talking to the kid, and I just shook my head, told the kid to stop talking to him, I gave the guy a dirty look, and moved with the line. Once through, I made my way to baggage claim, got my bags, and started for the exit. Everyone in front of me went through fine, but ya, you guessed it, I was stopped, (had to be the tats). After a barrage of questions, the officer let me go, (go figure). Having no idea how far the hotel was, I decided to take a cab, once inside I asked how much would it be, he said around 70 pounds, I about shit myself, in fact I think I left a stain on the seats. As you all know me, I had to ask why. The driver went on to tell me that they have to go to school to drive a cab for 3 years, then after being tested on every single street in London (they have to know them all by heart) they can buy, and run their own cab. 70 pounds later I made it to "My Place Hotel" and here I lay.