Fall Down Go Boom!

I'm a walking accident. Seriously...a walking accident.

I'm in the Atlanta airport, and I'm traveling between the two terminals. I have just exited the little train and I'm deciding which direction to take. I'm just standing, and I do a very slow 180 with my bag in tow.

That's when the accident happened. This woman, who must have been in a dead sprint, hits my bag and goes flying. Fall down, go boom does not do it justice. She hit the marble floor so hard, and I felt horrible.

I know that I wasn't responsible. It was an accident, but she wasn't even crying, and I felt like I should. She got up, and her elbow had a dent in it...not even kidding. It was bleeding and had a dent. I dented a woman...not a car...a woman.

Two men and an airline employee stopped to help her. I had bandaids handy so we were able to patch her up, but one was an ex-medic who thought she had a compound fracture. How the hell does this type of stuff happen to me? Yes you might think, after reading some of my other entries, that I would usually be the person on the falling end, but my new rolling briefcase, that was supposed to make my life easier while on the road, broke a woman's elbow.
Damn.

Washed Up Rockstars Behaving Badly

This time the location is Chicago. My co-workers and I were exhausted after working a very long information session on Saturday. We were at the end of a long week and food was calling our name (right after shopping - a girl has her priorities).

We headed to a quaint French restaurant where we were kindly greeted by the hostess. As she checking on table availability, a man walked in behind us.

Dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and a ball cap he wasn't exactly memorable. The events that however transpired were.

He started talking to us about how although his band had won a couple of Grammys in the 90's, he was still a nice guy. That often people think fame changes you, but he wasn't like that.

He then turns to the hostess and demands a table for ten and room for 3 stretchers. I'm sitting there thinking that maybe the wounded should have been best to leave behind in the hospital, but then he elaborates to let us know they are 3 white stretch limos.

After his demands were addressed, he grabs us and pulls us to the bar claiming that since we were without drinks, we were hobos.

Slamming a $100 bill on the bar, he tells the bartender to get us whatever we like, but his attention is soon distracted.

He spots the manager of the restaurant and starts ranting and raving about the manager's suit and how he was a wannabe and a bozo and that he needed to inform him of his poor fashion decision.

As he informs the manager, there is all of a sudden a huge shift and expletives start flying through the air. He starts yelling at the manager calling him ...well very not nice names. He turns to the rest of the restaurant and began yelling, "I made 7.5 million last year. I'm above all you [naughty bad word] on the food chain. Yeah the band has been out of the spot light..our choice...our choice. I don't need to tolerate this treatment."

After his outburst, he proceeded to scream naughty bad words and storm out of the restaurant.

I have no idea what band he was with...his face was no one that I recognized. So I guess fame doesn't change you, but the complete lack of fame makes for one cranky wannabe rocker.

Ohi-NO!

On the border of West Virginia and Ohio lies the little sleepy town of Marietta, Ohio. I'm a fan of small towns, love the little cafes and craft shops, but this was no charming small town. The streets were bare and funeral parlors lined the roads. Was this where Ohio sent their elderly to die?

Desperate to answer all of our awaiting student emails, Jesse, a co-worker, and I searched for a coffee shop to enjoy a cup of joe and get to work in between our class visit and our scheduled fair.

Marietta is the home of Marietta College. What is one thing that you would think all college campuses would have, large or small? Ok yes drunken coeds, but more importantly you would find a coffee shop. Having gone to a small institution myself, my campus had three coffee shops and only one stop light. Surely this would be the case in a town with three stop lights and a Mexican Restaurant.

We searched in vain, and then resorted to asking the lone college students that would appear as if out of no where. Slowing down our white PT Cruiser (uh...can you say pimpin?), we approached these young academics and inquired about the whereabouts of a coffee house.

It was as if we had asked where their local rocket base was located. Like I had said, so can you point me in the direction of your local puppy killing farm. A look of bewilderment crossed their faces, a pained expression, and then only the answer, "No," came from their lips. No? Yes, no...no coffee shops.

Finally after trying several weirded out college students, we managed to find the only coffee shop. As we entered this cozy little establishment (and by cozy, I mean barely able to contain the three tables within), the man questioned, "Well where are you ladies from? I can tell you aren't from around these parts?"

"Really how come?", we asked.

"Because you have all your teeth," he retorted. A simple answer, for a simple town.

Ahhh the memories that I'm already making.