It was hard to top a day like yesterday, but it did.
I got hit on at a stop light, my feet feel like a truck ran over them, and I may have figured out what exactly cabs smell like.
The karma was headed down the road to hell when the bus driver explained his morning as we sat on the shuttle. It went like this...
"I was sitting here when a man comes up at 7 a.m. dressed in a full suit, smoking a big cigar and sauced," he chuckled a little as he retold his morning. "He leaned into the bus and said he had to take care of some people, then he asked me if I was the shuttle to the convention and when I said yes he walked off and I haven't seen him again."
Weird, but it didn't top my run in with a strange gentleman at the crosswalk. I won't go into getting hit on because to be honest I have burned it from my memory. Much like you burn your retinas after seeing someone's butt crack - or worse, lady Shamu in a two-piece at the beach.
Moving on.
We worked the trade show today, which meant being on my feet all day. Not that I'm complaining - but I've used muscles these past few days I didn't know I had anymore. Literally, they feel like they've been run over by a Datsun. I have, however, eaten the normal trade show fare. Five cubes of cheese, about 12 ounces of diet tasting lemonade, three pretzels and some strange gourmet cracker (no, not plural). Needless to say the Cuban sandwich I had at 8:30 tasted really, really good and I can't really even tell you what exactly was on it.
After the show it was time to let loose a little. We made our way to a bar called, FLY. It's known for art and live music, and our little gathering was on the rooftop deck. I tried a fried plantain - not what I expected - and had some ice water because I was parched (remember the only liquid I'd had all day was 12 ounces of diet lemonade). I had a great time and met some new people.
We grabbed a cab back and I think I've nailed down what exactly a cab smells like - it's driver.
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