Since I flew into Orlando and then drove to Tampa in a really lame Chevy Cobalt (when you step on the gas, it’s like stepping into a bucket of oatmeal), I didn’t get to town until dark – AND got lost trying to find the Marriott, even though there was a big sign that was hard to miss.
But I’m here now and ready to rumble. At dinner in the hotel restaurant, I quizzed the waitress about the Yankees.
“Seen any players come through lately?” I asked.
“Yes, but I didn’t know who they were.” She giggled and explained in a thick accent that she was German, in the states on a work visa. “These big guys came in for breakfast and ordered all this big food. It wasn’t until the other waitresses told me who they were that I got excited.”
Figures. If I’d waited on any Yankees, I would have asked them a million questions.
Do you prefer sausages with your eggs or bacon?
Scrambled or sunny side up?
OJ or grapefruit juice?
Decaf or regular?
No, not the stuff of Kate Couric, but it’s late and I’m absolutely beat after getting up at 5 am for our cross-country flight out of LAX.
They showed the movie “Four Christmases” with Reese Witherspoon and Vince Vaughn, and, with the exception of a few funny lines, I was singularly unimpressed. Even worse were the flight attendants. Seriously. I’ve always met the nicest, most helpful flight crews. But these women were about as friendly as she was.
Tomorrow I’m taking out the video camera and hoping to find some interesting people to talk to – fans and non-fans alike. I hope the citizens of Tampa are ready.
Oh, before I say goodnight, thanks to everyone who guided my plane to safety. There were a few bumps and I drank the usual kerosine to take the edge off. But I survived!