It’s 9pm CST. I have to drive to the airport in 7 hours. I will then puddlejump to Chicago in order to sit coach for 8 hours. Upon deplaning I will stretch my arms, pull the wedgie out of my ass, and suck in a deep breathe of poorly recirculated Heathrow air. A grand welcome to be sure.
The point of my trip is buisiness - but could be construed as corporate tourism. Either way, it’s on like Donkey Kong. I’ll be back on the 15th (briefly).
I’ll try to bring back some good pub stories. Keep it gritty.
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