Or: WHAT I DID LAST WEEKEND by Sgt Hook
THURSDAY-
I awoke at my normal time on Thursday morn, my bags packed the night before, ready to make my way to the nation’s capital for the annual Milblog Conference 2007. The Lovely and talented and downright sexy Mrs. Hook graciously drove me to the nearest airport from our current undisclosed location, dropping me off a good two hours before my scheduled flight. As I waited, the skies seemed to darken and I noticed rain begining to fall. To make a long story short, my flight was delayed by almost an hour. Still we took to the dark skies. I was a bit concerned, however, as I had a connecting flight to make now only 10-minutes from our revised arrival time.
Doing my best OJ Simpson run through the airport in an attempt to make my flight, convinced that there was no way my bag would make it even if I did, I found my gate, already closed. My heart sunk, unsure as to when the next flight to D.C. was, certain that it would not be until the following day. No big deal as the first event of the conference wasn’t scheduled until Friday evening right? Wrong.
Two days before, I received an email from Mrs. Greyhawk who informed me that my old friend whom I’ve never met, Greyhawk would not be able to attend the conference as he was flying out for a mission Friday morning, but would be in town Thursday evening if I could make it. She invited me to join them and a group of other Milbloggers at the Macaroni Grill Restaurant in Arlington, not far from the hotel. I wanted desperately to make it.
Turning from the closed gate I found a woman adorned in a dark blue skirt, dark blue vest, light blue pin striped shirt and a gold nametag that read, “Jenny, Fly Me.”
Me: “Hi Jenny, It seems that I missed my connection to D.C., is there another flight out tonight?” I asked.
She: “No sir, I’m sorry,” she replied.
Me: “Well, when can I get out? The weather delayed my first leg,” I explained.
She: “Um, it looks like flight 3386 to Washington, D.C. will be departing in about 90 minutes,” she replied, looking up from her computer screen.
Me: blink, blink, blink
She: smile, blink, smile, blink
Me: “I thought you said that there was not another flight out tonight to D.C.?” I asked somewhat confused.
She: “There isn’t.” blink, flick of hair, sigh.
Me: “Maybe I should start over again slowly Jenny,” I calmly began. “My original flight was delayed by an hour and I was supposed to connect to D.C., when can I do that considering the weather and delays Jenny?”
She: “Mr. Hook, you are confirmed on flight 3386 departing in about 90 minutes and I am sorry for the delay, the weather has really been difficult today.”
Me: “Where’s the bar?”
I arrived to the airport formerly known as National 2-hours later than planned, made my way to the Metro and managed to find the hotel without much fanfare. I checked in quickly, dropping my bags into the very plush digs and running back down to catch a cab to the Macaroni Grill. Paying the ridiculous fare of $28 bucks for a 6-minute drive, I stepped up to the front entrance of a restaurant that actually looked closed. I hesitantly pushed on the front door and was pleased to find it open, so I proceeded in.
The place was surprisingly dark, and instead of being greeted by a hostess, I tripped over someone laying on the floor. Just as I was trying to figure out what the hell was going on, and what the hell my nose was smelling, spot lights coupled with shouts of “Police, on the floor, hands on your head or you’ll be shot!” shocked the shit out of me.
To again make a long story short, the aforementioned restaurant turned out to be a crack house and I was caught up in a police raid. Thrown into a cell with almost 50 other thugs I again felt my heart sank. Hearing a deep voice singing, “Swing low, sweet chariot…” I turned to see a large man in a red shirt sporting a gray beard sitting in the corner belting out the melancholy song, my spirits started to lift. A few moments later, a group of four were released having made bail, the crooner included. I was again starting to slip into the darkness of depression when the jailer walked down the hall, stopping in front of me on the other side of the bars.
He: “You Hook?”
Me: “Why, who wants to know?”
He: “Oh, you some kind of tough guy,” and he turned to walk away.
Me: “That’s right pal, I’m a tough guy!” I yelled. Then felt the room closing in on me, actually it was a handful of big sweaty crack heads closing in on me I think and yelled, “I’m Hook! I’m not that tough!”
He: Stopping, turning, out of the corner of his mouth said, “You’ve made bail.”
A few moments later, walking the lonely streets of D.C. my cell phone rang.
Me: “Hello.”
She: “Hook? This is Sherri, I’m at the rock bottom…”
Me: “As am I Sherri, as am I…”
She: “No, the Rock Bottom is a pub just around the corner from the hotel and there are some folks here I think you might like to meet.”
Me: “Oh, OK, and I sure could use a drink.”
Long to short, I made my way to the Rock Bottom and ordered a Weizen draught and walked around the crowded, smoke filled pub wondering who in the hell I was supposed to meet suddenly realizing that I’ve never actually met a blogger (save one) before, when I came across a table of several loud, cheerful, drunks, one of whom I thought I recognized but not sure from where.
Me: “Hi, is this the blogger’s table?” I asked.
They: “Who the hell are you!?”
Me: “Uh, I usually go by Hook.”
They: “No Shit!?!”
And all was well. Mrs. G had a lot of questions to answer regarding the whole restaurant/crack house thing, and I managed to meet Greyhawk, unfortunately he was passed out in the back seat of a limo, his fingernails adorned with bright red polish and it looked as if he was wearing lipstic. Still I was very happy to have finally met for the first time this gang of thieves…
Of course I have no idea who any of them are, but I’m pretty sure that I recognize some of them from the *ahem “Macaroni Grill.”
Next up- Friday. Sgt Hook out.
Posted by Hook @ 0231 zulu | | Permalink
This post is filed under: All Things Blog
Electric Venom linked with
A Funny Thing Happened On The Way To The MilBlog Conference
