But Jay Z owns Roca Wear!

I just got back from a work trip that was less than desirable. I don’t know how to fully describe some of the events (and I would like to, believe me) so I’ll just list the lowlights.

- I almost missed my flight to D.C. because Long Term parking was FULL and Overflow Parking was FULL and then I had to turn around to get to the Economy Lot but I got stuck in traffic because there was a massive wreck
- I encountered about 15 to 20 people who were working in a customer service oriented way – WHO COULD NOT SPEAK ENGLISH
- The flight attendant on my flight to D.C. had trouble reading from the safety guidelines card, kept having to sound out the words (which she did over the intercom). I decided that if we encountered some sort of peril, I would have to take over
- On the flight to D.C. I sat behind a couple with a small child. The child kept reaching through the seats trying to touch my face. The parents did nothing to stop this - FOR TWO HOURS
- I experienced subtle racism (against me) for the first time in my 31 years of life
- I got lost driving around D.C. – which isn’t hard to do since the city is laid out like a 2000 piece jigsaw puzzle with 30 pieces missing
- I yelled at my artist to SHUT! UP! RIGHT! NOW!
- He did not take kindly to the yelling
- I only yelled because I was at the literal end of my rope and he would not shut-up
- I considered stealing the hotel hairdryer because it was THAT awesome
- I was involved (by accident) in a heated debate about who is worth more money – Jay Z or R. Kelly
- I learned that those who think Jay Z is worth more money than R. Kelly are “trippin’”
- I learned that urban record stores display their pornagraphic videos right next to the Beyonce and Mariah CDs
- I saw George Huff, the one and only American Idol contestant I’ve ever voted for
- I saw a woman in her sixties wearing a tube-top dress and no underwear to speak of. The tube dress was so incredibly tight, she could only take tiny 1 inch steps very quickly, sort of hopping. While wearing the tiny tube and doing the tiny hop, she was dragging a 75 pound suitcase, the old school hard shell kind that’s not on wheels. She also appeared to be seven months pregnant, although I’m sure that was simply a result of the no-supportive-underwear-tube-dress scenario
- While I was openly gawking at the Tiny Tube Lady, another lady stopped next to me and said “I just can’t take it anymore. I cannot follow this woman one more step. Do you mind if I stand here next to you for a minute?”
- “Of course not” I replied
- I was almost thrown out of BET by the rent-a-cops because I didn’t have proper “credentials”
- I did not see George W. Bush
- I almost missed my flight back home due to incompetence at the Washington/Dulles airport
- I rode six different shuttles in 24 hours
- I sat next to a sharp dressed man with INCREDIBLE B.O.
- When I got back to Nashville, the Economy Lot shuttle dropped me off (at 11:30 at night) in a HUGE GIANT LOT with no people. It was dark. Scary. Lonely. I couldn’t find my car. Then I noticed a suspicious man (suspicious: no luggage in an airport parking lot, didn’t seem to be looking for a car) who was lurking in whatever row I happened to be in – I thought I would be killed, or worse
- I finally found my car and was SO READY TO GO HOME (and not be killed, or worse) and I got onto the interstate to SIT IN TRAFFIC BECAUSE OF CONSTRUCTION