Workin 'ho (Thought Sausage)

Workin 'ho

And that ain't no lie. Once again your hero is in San Francisco. But not in my normal digs. This time 'the man (or woman as the case is) stuffed me away in an airport hotel. So I'm in South San Francisco (aka nothing-to-do-land) sitting in the Hilton Garden Inn & Suites in a Savannah-esque room (flower pattern comforters? CHECK). Insofar, my mark for this hotel is far on the ass end of the bell curve. First off, they fucked up my booking. Sure they can "reserve" a room via an American Express. But can they actually book the fucking thing? Well not according to Sir-Arthur-Concierge (aka Jorge the 3rd shift attendant). So once again, I'm forced to pay for my shit with my personal bling (bling that I have marked for using to grant a full pardon from the city of Chicago for my car). This has happened to me thrice this year and all three times were in Hilton hotels (one in NYC one in Boston and now one here). WTF? Believe you me, I'm writing a letter of complaint to Paris as soon as I post this. STOP BOOZING BEHIND THE WHEEL AND START ACCEPTING MY FUCKING COMPANY CARD!

Thanks to being out by the airport, I've wracked up 130 bucks in cab fares in two days. I'd expect to put that much away in New York City, but san fran just ain't that cruel.

Furthermore, the bar here closes at 9 (nine?!!). What the hell is that? I arrived here @ 7:30, went through the rigamarole with Jorge and then bellied up to the bar for a much needed Sierra only to get three into them to be told "we are closing at 9". Luckily, I met a pal...his name is JC and he is here from Washington DC managing a project for a big pharmeceutical company. JC informed that the Embassy Suites down the street was open until midnight, so we oozed down to that bar and drank their booze and hung out with their patrons (typical embassy suites crowd...couples in their 50's having "cocktails" who are completely flabbergasted that some of us are actually not here on vacation). Turns out JC used to own a 68 Mustang...so needless to say we closed down that bar waxing poetic on our various affections for muscle cars. Dad would be proud!

JC was a transient type. From what I gather, he's never really in one place for more than a week or so at a time (kind of like me, but if I'm not in Chicago, odds are I'm in San Francisco, so I'm not too hard to find). Transients amuse me in bars because conversation no doubt eventually steers to them delivering a pre-meditated sermon on what they believe is the best way to "handle women". It is difficult for these sorts of people to sustain any real meaningful relationships (understandably so). So their various ways of engineering situations that result in them getting a piece of ass are inventive to say the least. JC seems to stake out whatever convention is in town and follow that crowd to whatever happenin' hotel they meandaur to. Apparently, tomorrow there is a big 'thing' going on @ Embassy so JC is preparing himself for a vixen vaccuming affair of biblical proportions. Go get 'em JC!!

Purpose for this trip? Well we had to present an audit to a client today...and boy howdy did your hero kick some tail. This one was definitely one for the books. I love walking out of those things with follow-up emails already in my box by the time I get back to the office. I think there's a good book of business to come from this one.

Going forward? Well an audit for a reccomendation from the board. Unfortunately, it looks like I'll be coming back to san fran to present that one too.

On the docket? Well when I get back to Chicago, I'm celebrating with Horowitz (what? not too sure, but far be it from me to stop a party). Sunday I'm hauling my ass 12 miles or so for a half marathon. Then I'm off to Iowa for the week to hang with the bro.

Posted by Dave McAnally on September 28, 2006 12:30 AM | Permalink

Thought Sausage

Chew On This!

Workin 'ho

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