I was up by 5AM, which is fairly typical of me on a weekday. Spent the morning preparing for the day ahead: packing, prepping, getting paperwork in order, getting money from the bank, starting insurance coverage, etc etc on the car I was to pick up.
My ride came about 12:30, only 30 minutes late. I was chauffeured to a terminal for Atlanta's public transit system, MARTA. Because my ride was late, I was not able to pick up a burger on the way.
I got to the MARTA station to find out that they no longer accept "tokens". How lovely, I'm glad that I purchased that bulk pack of tokens all those years ago and saved 10% off their individual total retail value.
Also come to find out that MARTA now uses a pass card system, and the rider is forced to purchase their own card for only $5. How awesome; I have to purchase a $5 card in order to purchase a $1.75 ride on public transit.
I get the MARTA pass situated and gain access to the terminal. I'm carrying 2 bags, and oh the escalator is out of service. Some dumb *** parent lets their child, who was wearing Crocks footware, ride the escalator and mess up his foot. Gee, I've never heard that kids wearing Crocks on escalators was a problem.
So with my gimp knee I walk up the un-ending staircase to access the train platform. 2/3 of the way up, my left leg is shaking and my knee is aching. Not that oww my muscle is sore
kind of ache. More like that oww I don't like being stabbed in my kneecap with a machete
type of feeling.
However I make the best of the situation, the train comes, I board it and we go for a ride. The train-man cometh and orders me to move my luggage to the luggage area, instead of having it on the seat next to me. You see, the train was nearly empty, BUT perhaps a 3rd passenger would wish to ride in the same car as me, and there is always the likelyhood that the only seat said person would wish to park themselves would be the one immediately next to me.
I politely decline the request, and then decline again after minimal protest. The trainman got bored with the excersize, and left me.
Half way through my splendid public transit journey, I am forced to switch trains. I depart my empty train car and find my way to the platform appropriate for my end destination. I consulted the schedule and determined that my wait at the platform would be 10 minutes long, so I found an out of the way area to place my bags on the ground next to me while I stood gaurd beside them. A rather charming young gentleman approximately 18 years in age had quite an interest in my bags. I could tell that he was interested because he kept walking by them, with his eyes fixed on them. He would glance at me, then stare at the bags. He then pulled up the hood from his sweatshirt and covered his face. I relocated myself and my bags to an area that had adjoining walls behind me such that I could not be approached at any angle that I could not see. The young man decided to follow me over. I placed the bags behind me and to my weak side and was sure to keep eye contact with the young man. The train came. I borded it, and so did he.
This train car quickly filled up. However I held fast to my luggage. A woman sitting diagonal from me had obvious AIDS blisters on her neck and face. Nice. My stop came up, and I exited. The young man from earlier did too. He continued to eyeball me and my bags.
I exited the station and waited for my associate to pick me up. We had phone contact which confirmed he was a couple minutes behind me. The thug decided he needed to hang out at the station too. I slightly lifted my untucked shirt and allowed it to bunch up just a little over and slightly exposed my Glock, secured at 4 o'clock in a Don Hume IWB holster. The punk lost interest and went back into the station. He apparently already had a pass card.
My associate, RotornutFD3s, arrived at the MARTA terminal and picked me up. We drove to Birmingham International Airport to catch our flight to Dallas. The plane was late. The weather was rough so the flight was turbulent and we were unable to sleep. Rotor closed his eyes once, right as we were hitting a severe spot, and smashed his noggin on a bulkhead.
The very attractive lady sitting to my right was a flight attendant for the airline, assumably just catching a ride to Dallas. She went to the galley and came back with 4 travel bottles of vodka and went to town. 3 with sprite and the last in a bloody mary. She then left and came back smelling like she bathed in an entire bottle of perfume. Too bad she was good lookin
I met the seller of my new vehicle at the airport. All goes well and we conclude our affairs. At 11pm eastern, Rotornut and I depart Dallas and head towards Atlanta. I drive for about 2 and a half hours or so while Rotor sleeps. The radar dector falses at very high volume and goes off. We decide to pull off and get some fuel, and I ask Rotor to drive. He drives for a short time, and we decide that it's time to eat dinner. A this time it's 3AM eastern so the only place we found open was Waffle House. Yea, 3AM Waffle House in the middle of nowhere. But it was fun. Rotor then continues our drive eastbound, however he starts falling asleep at the wheel. So we decide it's probably in our best interests if I drive. So I do, we chat for a while, then Rotor is out again for another 2 hours. I drive until 7:30AM, and I just couldn't anymore.
Rotor wakes up and I ask him to try again. He ends up becoming alert and was able to drive for the remaining 2 hours to pick up his vehicle back at Birmingham. I even managed to get a 30 minute nap in.
So, in summation:
I have been up since 5AM yesterday with exception to a 30 minute nap which occured around 8AM this morning. I made my way from my home in a distant Atlanta suburb to Birmingham, where I caught a jet to Dallas, and drove back in one shot. The return drive was 820 miles and took 13 hours and 15 minutes including our food and gas stops. Total travel time 23 hours 45 minutes!
Here is what I have to show for it