I’m here in St. Louis. My hotel room is more opulent than I’m used to. A single night’s stay costs as much as my bi-weekly mortgage payment. And I'm here six nights.
The plane ride sucked. They showed Access Hollywood on the TV and there was no radio to listen to. Plus they seated me near the back. I guess someone has to sit there, but I would rather it be someone other than me.
I went for a walk to check out the neighbourhood. I must have looked as out of place as Bill Clinton at a Promise Keepers rally because in the course of my 20 minute jaunt, a woman on her front porch stared at me as if I was Paul Bernardo on a day pass, a car full of young men slowed down as they passed and one of them pointed at me, then a car full of women drove by and one of them yelled, “I love to f*ck bald men!” as I rubbed my hairless scalp.
I picked up my training manual, and I wish I’d pumped up my biceps before coming because the box must weigh 50 pounds!
There's a tornado warning for St. Louis and other parts of Missouri, as well as areas of Illinois. The clouds are greyish black.
Right now I’m watching the Colorado-Dallas game. It’s in overtime. But I have to go to dinner soon. From what I remember, the food at these things is fantastic.