My latest X File

Alas, I am home from yet another trip to the big city. I went to Atlanta last week for a class (total snorzville). I did, however, get to stay in the Westin. My yes, I felt quite hoity toity to be able to slumber under the watchful eye of the King and Queen... actually, it was more like "hillbilly circus come to town". Or maybe that movie Big Business with Lily Tomlin and Bette Midler. Yeah, that was us.

We pulled into the hotel in our sweet ride (Olds 88 with cracked windshield and paint chipped off the bumper - no offense, Jamie! My windshield is cracked too...). Being the high falutin' kind, we barreled right up to the front door. We jumped out in total Beverly Hillbilly style and started unloadin' our lives right onto the curb. The valet and bellmen stood aghast as we laid out pillows, bags of crackers and hair curlers - lookin' like we were prepared to withstand any sort of nuclear, seismic or weather-related disaster. The bellman brought over a luggage cart, and I started to load that thing like a girl straight off the farm. When we were done, Jamie went to "self-park" the car. No valet for us. We're from Alabama. We don't trust no big city slickers with our goods, no sir. Plus they wanted $12 a night to valet. I mean, were they planning to sleep in the car - give me a break.

As Jamie is off parking the car somewhere, I proceed into the hotel. As I turn to go, I grab the luggage cart and start heaving and huffing trying to get the thing rollin'. With a look of total astonishment and disbelief, James (the bellman), tells me that he will bring it up to the room for us. I stand there a moment, somewhat startled. Again, you want me to leave a box full of my panties and haircurlers out here on the curb and trust that you will bring them to me? Reluctantly, I turned and went inside. It's only then that I realize there are other people gathered outside the hotel.

While we were performing our hillbilly circus act, there were several people draped in black, wearing pointy-toed Prada's, and holding their Paris Hilton knock-off dogs under one arm. I'm sure they all stormed the desk immediately after our departure to demand a refund, not having been told there was a hick convention in town. Dahling.

As for the class, it was a total bore. I sat each day in a sea of golf shirts and sleepy eyes. We listened as hard as we could to the speaker lecture about various insurance topics. What can I say - unless you actually demonstrate a loss by setting something on fire, there ain't a whole lot you can do to make insurance interesting for eight hours a day. Luckily, I only did the sleepy head jerk thing a couple of times. And this year, no one fell out of their chair - so I'd call it a success!

Each night after class, we went out on the town. One night we met a friend of mine and went to some Fish Bowl or Goldfish restaurant. Here we are in this nice, upscale restaurant, complete with white linen napkins and they have some guy singing "Baby Got Back" lounge lizard style accompanied by the house piano. It seemed fitting that this should be the evening I try sushi for the first time. They tried to get me to use the chopsticks, but I told them that unless they expected me to spear the sushi, I had to go with the old stand-by fork. Anyway, I dipped it in the soy sauce and shoved the whole thing in as instructed. Something about the chemical make-up of the sushi mixed with my saliva caused the fish to grow and grow. The more I chewed, the more it grew. The more it grew, the more sensitive my gag reflex became. Not to worry - my Momma taught me well. If I can politely choke down tapioca at a church member's house, I can get down some sushi in a public place if I have to. But man, was it hard. Mind over matter, I was finally able to swallow it. No thanks, Fear Factor - been there, done that.

We also found a chocolate factory while we were there. Hallelujah! The minute you opened the door, it smelled like heaven. They made all kinds of things there, chocolate in almost any shape you can imagine. They even made champagne glasses, high-heeled shoes and baby carriages, not to mention little boxes with lids and chocolate dipped oreos. Can I get an Amen? I am contacting them to see about having a chocolate casket made for me when I pass.

All in all, it was a fairly uneventful trip. Truth be told, it was probably much more colorful in my own mind than in reality. Then again, life typically seems to follow that pattern for me.