219: working for the weekend.

fresh dressed like a million bucks, I spent the weekend working for the man at a shoe show.

It's probably a HUGE stretch to say I work for the man. Maybe the WOman...

I have a pretty great job...

Friday was a long day of leaving Philly at 5:00am, and getting to bed close to 11:00.

When I finally got back to the hotel I was dismayed to find these guys rooming across from me:

I heard there adolecent shrills, and shreaks as they bounced around the hotel. I just wanted to go to sleep. Luckily, some mother took enough time to come up from the bar, and to hush these young ladies.

As I lay in the bed, hoping that they stay quiet enough that I can get some sleep, I think to myself:

HIGH SCHOOL CHEERLEADERS. Arrgh: the scourge of my existence.

Oh no, this isn't some latent "hot popular chicks didn't dig skaters during the mid 80's" blast.

I could list the trouble I got into when I was on my back and they were cheering "pin him, pin him" and they were from my school. When I told them they were number one, that didn't go over so well. I guess I used the wrong finger.

Or when I got pulled into my Athletic Director's office when I was coaching because I told the cheerleading coach that I didn't think her girls belonged at my match, and no they couldn't do a dance routine on my mats between matches.

Cheerleaders so badly want to be taken seriously as a sport. I can respect that. I struggle with that in much the same way that I struggle with Golf or baseball being a sport. Somehow, I have cheerleaders on the same level as kiddie beauty pagents. I love women's athletics, but I'm not too sure cheerleading counts. It's funny the girls that were perhaps the meanest, perhaps the most petty, are the ones begging to be have their "sport" taken seriously. Ironic isn't it?

But I digress it doesn't really matter. I mean if dressing up in some weird uniform, and screaming makes you happy, then go for it. Just not across the hall from me, when I'm trying to get some sleep.

I will admit when I read this:

"any guy and hold a girls had, but it takes an elite to hold her feet" I was thinking of something more like this.

anyway, the show went well, I had a ton of fun, worked my ass off. My badge holder said "executive"- My parents must be so proud.

My lunch runs for the booth however told the truth- middle management baby...

Had some awesome dinners while I was there, at a lot of sushi, and went to a killer resturant called Blue Point. They had this:

I'll admit I'm not a creme brule expert like E-town. But this was good. Best of all, unlike most places which give you a tiny little portion, this was the real deal. No 3 spoonfuls and it's gone. This could have been a meal in of itself. Now that's what I want to see out of my desserts.

It is really good to get home, see the Monkey and the pups. It's so good to be home. Who knows I might even get to ride a bike this week, mother nature willing...

respect.

faticus