Here we come bitches!
Mere hours from the warmth and good cheer of Chicago.
Here's my prediction:
Our flight gets in at 7:40 tonight. By 8:40 I will have my first Manhattan by 9:30 I will have my first red meat. By 11:40 I'll be charming the pants off of everyone with the witty bon mots that typically surface after the 6th cocktail or so. If anyone doesn't catch them the first time around, that's OK, I'll repeat every one 3 or 4 times. Even if they did catch them they probably still should hear them again because I'm so fucking wonderful and clever.
I'm anticipating a stop at the Bob Inn to make sure the one pair of non-shorts/ Adidas pants I brought gets that nice smoke and whiskey smell for the rest of the trip.
Plus I have to house Turbo and Fat Nick at Golden Tee.
Friday we'll prolly head towards school for manuscript work with Deano and sandwiches from Fontano's. Perhaps naughty early afternoon hooky drinks with the Evil Doctor?
Friday night - Party at Turbo and Fat Nick's. More witticisms I'm sure.
Saturday I'll probably run 5-6 miles and maybe do some pilates. Important to keep fit on these trips.
Following that I'll punch myself in the nuts.
Saturday may be the day I prove I am all that is man by taking a big belt off the whiskey bottle and announcing "I am all that is man." at 8am. Then I will shudder, sweat, and lay back down.
Then to Old Town for the Spice Shop, chocolateria, cigar shop, and The Old Town Ale House.
Then cookout at Amy's.
More drinking/ insightful and hilarious quips.
Sunday will be spent ladling at a soup kitchen and cleaning up litter. Maybe mentoring some troubled kids.
Monday is too far away to tell.
Then back to the hole.