On Traveling Archives - Mr. AssMr. Ass

Wolf Blitzer and the Airport Riot

Even on the best of days, flying out of Chicago’s O’Hare airport is more painful than a dry-fingered prostate exam. On a Friday afternoon, with a week of business travel behind you, a ten-dollar beer in your hand and the odor of poorly maintained public restrooms filling the air, you wish air travel had never been invented. At that point, it would have been better had the Wright Brothers gone into haberdashery, or pursued western real estate. I just wanted …Read the Rest

The Best Blueberry Donuts in Craigshead County

The folks in Arkansas are very nice. All that smiling and waving, the courteous nods and warm handshakes. “Thank you, sir. Have a good day, sir. You come on back now sir, you hear?” Arkansas should change its nickname from the Natural State to the Polite State. And even though I’d screwed something up with their inventory, my customer was no different. “It’s okay, Mr. Kip,” said Bobby-Jo, the project manager. “My mama taught me everyone is allowed to make …Read the Rest

Waiting for Comic Con

Obviously, I didn’t plan it this way. The Nordic Warrior Queen and I were visiting my daughter in San Diego when I saw the TV commercial: Comic Con, at the San Diego Convention Center, starting Wednesday. I’ve wanted to go since I was a little kid, when Comic Con was still the Golden State Comic Book Convention. I would dress up as Captain America and pose before the bathroom mirror, wishing I could be a superhero. Woohoo! It was the …Read the Rest

In the Natural State

My boss called me last weekend. “I need you in Arkansas, ayy-sap.” No please or thank you here. Just ayy-sap. “Sure, what’s up?” What else can you say when your boss calls on a Saturday morning? “Customer’s in trouble. Just go.” She hung up the phone. The email with travel instructions arrived seconds later. Fly on a SUNDAY? No effing way. I immediately called her back. “I thought we agreed no weekends.” “I know things you don’t,” came the curt …Read the Rest

Ad astra per aspera

Driving through downtown Ottawa, Kansas this week, I got stuck behind a black Ford Fusion with a license plate that read OLDLUVR. At every stoplight, this impatient love machine scooted through the red exactly three seconds before his turn. Perhaps he was rushing home to a hot grandmother, blue pills at the ready. I was in no hurry, but his actions irritated me somehow. Why should he break the law and go unpunished, while I continue to pay my taxes …Read the Rest

Dive Bombing Crows

After the Dancing with the Stars affair, I had to change restaurants. No more sports bars for me. Those Texas baseball fans are crazy. There’s a Coco’s close to the hotel where I was staying, but they don’t serve beer. So I went to Chili’s instead. It’s a little farther, but the Nordic Warrior Queen says I can afford to lose a few pounds, and I decided to walk. It was a beautiful evening for Texas: 100 degrees and 90 …Read the Rest

Dancing with the Stars

Ever since the Nordic Warrior Queen and I started dance lessons, a terrible feeling has come over me. Don’t get me wrong. I thoroughly enjoy doing the two-step with my wife. But I’ve begun to have thoughts no man should have to admit. I can’t stop watching Dancing with the Stars Poor Dorothy Hamill. Brave Zendaya. The titanic efforts of Wynonna Judd. I’m not proud of my obsession. I admit, however, that while out of town on business recently, eating …Read the Rest

The Dodge Caravan Affair

One of the drudgeries of business travel is renting the car. You’ve just flown halfway across the country, jammed into an airplane filled with crying babies, farting fat guys, and Sudoku-playing armrest grabbers. At the end of this odyssey, when you’d like nothing more than to crawl into a dark corner somewhere and suck your thumb, comes the car rental. Your employer would put you on a skateboard if he could save a couple bucks. As it is, you’re lucky if corporate …Read the Rest

Marge and the Breakfast Buffet

I saw the sign. I just didn’t care. “Please enjoy your breakfast with us here in the dining room,” it said. “FOOD IS NOT ALLOWED IN GUEST ROOMS!” In all fairness, I was a little cranky. Hotels do that to me. Being away from home, working with difficult clients, a strange bed, and a constant stream of CNN and infomercials. And the food. Every morning, it was the same thing. Bacon with the taste of buffalo jerky, stale oat bran …Read the Rest

Drinking Beer in Utah

Despite the cheerless Mormons (and the people who make fun of them), I like Utah. Their towns have interesting names, like Beaver, and Brian Head, Tooele and Farr West. They ignore their speed limits. And even though they once hosted the Olympic games, they’re not snooty about it. The mountains are tall. Most of the Utahns I’ve met (yes, Utahns) refer to Arizona’s Superstitions and Catalinas mountains as foothills. And then they laugh, like that’s supposed to be funny. Sometimes …Read the Rest

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