What a difference a weekend makes. Friday morning, I was waking up early to see the sun rise over a Pacific beach. This evening, I’m in that crack pipe of a city: Portsmouth, Virginia. It’s a place that makes some of those shady ports of call I made in my Navy days seem tame. I kind of expected this place to be an armpit, but the city just outdid itself. It seems like every street I passed had a cop making a traffic stop. I think the producers of the TV show COPS have a permanent room rented at the hotel. It’s a place that shirtless drunk guys could call home.
Next time, I’ll let the reseller pick the hotel. This sucks. I think my traveling fun has reached an all-time low.
I’m meeting my buddy Clint and our reseller in a few to go out to eat (there’s safety in numbers, you know). Then I’m bolting the door and hunkering down until tomorrow’s 9 AM meeting. Maybe my days living on Clanton Avenue in Raleigh will come in handy and I can remember how to sleep through gunfire.
Make sure you keep me handy tonight.
Sincerely,
Your Gat
🙂
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the blizzog @ jamiegaines.com
Luckily, my Gat wasn’t needed. Still, I couldn’t help noticing the door to my room didn’t close properly. Made me wonder how many times it had been kicked open. 🙂
Holly’s grandma used to live there, and I was always nervous when we’d go visit. Shady apartment complex in the shadow of the shipyard.
Gives me the jibblies. Here they come again. Jjjjjibbbily.