Road Trip to Atlanta (Part I)

Atlanta. The ATL. Hotlanta. Where the ballers ball and the players play. Incidentally, it is also where Karol calls home, and Ben and I decided it was high time to go visit. After some scamming the managers at work concerning my hours and availability to work, we were on our way! Two guys blasting down the road, windows down and radio up, grabbing life by the horns with the pedal down and no stopping til Atlanta! Yeah, that was the idea. It was more like no stopping until the middle of the bridge, where traffic came to the expected stand-still. Then another stop in Gainesville for dinner and a quick visit with Jim. And then one other time just south of the Macon bypass where traffic came to a halt for no apparent reason. But finally we made it to Atlanta at about 3 in the morning, just a scant 10 hours after we left. Ben and I were greeted by Tom, looking for all the world like a father whose kids have come home at an unreasonable hour. He shuffled out onto the porch in his underwear, grunted a greeting and saying something about the door being unlocked. By the time we got inside, he was definitely back asleep. Karol, who was slightly ore awake, gave us a quick tour of his new digs, which are pretty nice. I claimed a nice piece of couch, Ben curled up on the floor, and we were asleep in minutes, thus concluding day 1 of our long weekend in Atlanta.

The next morning I work up at 7 when Karol left for work. Then again at 10 when Tom left for work. Then finally once more around noon when I was just too hungry to roll over and sleep it off. A quick check of the kitchen showed little in the way of food, so I struck out to the nearby Publix for some breakfast grub. Atlanta was experiencing a cold front that I was more or less unprepared for, clothing-wise. I had packed some jeans just to fill up my suitcase, and that was lucky indeed. It was a brisk walk from the grocery store on a chilly morning with a crunchy apple in hand, and I was feeling pretty good about things. After waking up Ben several times, we finally got motivated to get out the door and drive to 3D ScanCo’s world headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. It’s actually kind of a warehouse next to a produce storage place and under a Big Lots. But there’s plenty of room to play football, which is what Ben and I did for the better part of the day while Karol and Tom were in meetings. Our football playing was interrupted by a lunch trip with a guy who works for Karol and looks a whole lot like Dr. Way from high school. At the end of the working day we moved our football game outside, where Karol almost immediately broke Tom’s antenna off his otherwise immaculate car. We tried to reattach it with chewing gum, but to no avail.

That night we were going out to a bar with Karol and Tom’s friend Jimbo. Do not be confused, as I was. Jimbo is not a guy. Her real name is Kristen but they already had a friend named Kristen, so they call her Jimbo, and for some reason she goes along with it. Anyway, after some pre-drinking we headed out to a bar where the main attraction was standing out on a porch and socializing with your fellow drinkers. This may have been more enjoyable during more favorable weather, but I was the only one not wearing a beer jacket, so it was pretty cold. After the party broke up, we decided to head to the Clermont Lounge, which was certainly the highlight of the day, and is certainly in the running for the weirdest hour of my life.

Those of you who are familiar with Dave Attel’s “Insomniac” show on Comedy Central and saw the Atlanta edition are familiar with the Clermont Lounge. Those of you who are not, let me introduce you: it is that place your mother warned you about. To call it a gentleman’s club would require a massive redefinition of the word gentleman. Also of the word club, since they let absolutely everyone in without cover. Before going inside I was warned that this was the place where old strippers go to die. True indeed, the first stripper I saw was named Minnie Mouse, and she was 65 years old. No lie. The patrons of this establishment were of the sort that made me move my wallet to my front pocket and keep my hand on it at all times. We found ourselves some tables in the back and the guys got a few rounds. Ben went to the bathroom, something I would not have done if my life depended on it. He came back with a souvenir: the bobber from the tank of the toilet. I guess it seemed like a good idea to him at the time. In the corner near where we were sitting there was a guy who looked like he had been there since 1974. He had red leather shoes, gray suit with big collar, Geri curl afro and wide brimmed hat. He truly looked like he knew what was up. Finally, at about 3 in the morning, they started shooing people out by turning on the lights. If you thought that place looked scary in the dark, it was nothing like what it looked like with the lights on. When we got home I had to take a shower in the hottest water possible. All in all a good night though.

The rest of my trip will be chronicled in my next blog installment.