Wednesday, May 6, 2009
i hate cherry garcia
This little indulgence at the Denver airport did not make up for all that came before it and all that came after, which included a canceled flight, a delayed rescheduled flight, a one-hour wait for the shuttle from the Chicago airport to the crappy hotel, and the fact that, I shit you not, a Grateful Dead concert at the convention center attached to the crappy hotel was getting out just as our much delayed shuttle finally delivered us to the crappy hotel lobby at 1:00 a.m. Which meant the crappy hotel lobby was made even crappier by the presence of hundreds of white people with dreadlocks. Hundreds of wasted white people with dreadlocks. Hundreds of stinky, wasted, loud white people with dreadlocks.
And not only were they in the lobby, they were roaming the halls, stinking and playing their didgeridoos and calling each other "bra" and "mon." And not only were they in the halls they were smoking pot and holding drum circles in most of the rooms. And not only were they in the rooms, there were thousands and thousands of them in the convention center parking lot that my crappy hotel room overlooked, where they spent the rest of their long, strange trips juggling fire and blaring bootlegs from their car stereos while I laid in bed holding my finger in the air, hoping for a miracle.