ATL Layover, Part 3

After watching the pilot episode of Arrested Development (free on iTunes!), I got my pack of miniature Cinnabons and headed back to the T terminal. I went to one of the ever-present Atlanta News & Gifts stores to get a bag of pretzels and a cold bottled Coke, both of which may come in handy on the plane if dinner sucks. I get breakfast on the flight to Dublin too, which will probably be close to non-existent (mini croissant, anyone?), so I hope the French cafés serve wine and cheese at 6am!

I just thought of an awesome idea. There should be gyms in airports, like in hotels. That way you have something to do other than sit on your fat behind while you're waiting. Not that I'd use it, because I'd totally be intimidated by the people inside. Just a thought.

ATL Layover, Part 2

I've walked back to the A terminal after breaking the seal in T (and again in A, even though you can't technically break it twice). I've stationed myself in the neighboring terminal so I can sit in front of the Cinnabon in case the drunk munchies strike (and even if they don't, I still want one!). I spent my remaining time in T talking to the bartender and Afghanistan man about international drinking ages. I spent $11 before tip on the margarita (that's almost a pitcher at La Ha... highway robbery!) and didn't realize until after I left that I added wrong. Now she's gonna think I'm an idiot. Or a drunk.

I realized while I was walking over that I've flown in and out of ATL as many, if not more, times than I've flown out of Charleston. I think that's odd. I'm a big hater of the ATL bathroom sinks too. They squirt out enough water to wash a third of one hand and then stop so you have to wave your soapy, partially wet hand around like an idiot until it will squirt again. They need to recalibrate those things.

I'm going to either read or watch TV on my iPod until I get the Cinnabon craving (yum!).

ATL Layover, Part 1

After a short flight to ATL, I find myself looking for ways to amuse myself for 5 hours. So far, I've eaten a personal pan pizza from Pizza Hut (at 10:30 am!) and looked at giant sculptures from Zimbabwe between terminals T & A (haha, T&A). What do you call sculptures (or anything) from Zimbabwe? Zimbabwean? Must Wikipedia later.

Now I'm sitting in the On the Border conveniently located right across from my gate drinking a margarita. This woman who I believe was drunk (at 11am? Props to her!) said the bartender made really good ones. It's pretty good, but doesn't compare to ones from Cozumel! It's in a huge glass though, which makes me happy. The fact that I'm drinking a margarita out of a tumbler makes me feel a little trashy though. And the John Mayer/Gavin deGraw crossbreed wannabe they're piping throughout the restaurant has a decidedly un-Mexican feel. I paid almost $7 for a small pizza, drink, and breadsticks (which were awful and the only time I've ever not enjoyed Pizza Hut breadsticks), so I'm afraid to think how much this margarita will cost. It will be worth it though, if not for the tequila for the place to sit and write without being hunched over in those crappy benches at the gate.

I'm sitting next to a guy that just got back from Afghanistan and he's wearing this little pouch thing on his arm with his ID in it (among other things, I guess). The bartender said it would be handy for when she was out on the beach in the Bahamas, and I had to hold back the urge to tell her that she'd have awful tan lines (and weird looking too) if she used it for that purpose.I'm kind of in love with my new Sharpie pen now, by the way.

Now they're playing Madonna. How Mexican. I've only killed 20 minutes here and I'm running out of ideas. I may have to watch movies/TV shows on my iPod and pray there's an interesting movie on the plane. E! wasn't working in my last flight, and that's the only channel worth a damn in the morning.

OMG, they're actually playing a song in Spanish! About time. Anyways, the margarita's almost gone and my hand's starting to hurt, so I'm stopping now. You can measure my boredom by how many more times I write today.