Saturday, May 24, 2008

A Man for Four Seasons

So, I had an unexpected leave of absence from the blogosphere. Was it weird for you? I was totally psyched out for a while, but I think I'm good now. Anyway, I thought to ease y'all back into my life, I would start with a journal entry, that is really part of a letter to friend about my latest experience with poshness. I wrote most of this on May 19th.

I just finished my first office visit of the summer here in Atlanta. Honestly, I’m being so spoiled here! They put me up in the Four Seasons Hotel (based out of Toronto, how cool is that? They even have a Canadian flag hanging outside of the hotel). Charles Barkley is staying at my hotel. So are the Eagles. I guess they don't stay at the Hotel California much these days. It’s so nice, though. It’s gotta be five stars. I just hung my shoes outside the door in a bag and somebody is going to come and shine them for free. Haha, I love it . I knew I was in for a treat when I saw a deluxe king size bed in the room and big flat screen TV. I think I’m going to go take a bath in a little bit and just relax tonight. I want to take a look around the city, but all of the other people that came for the office visit aren’t going to do anything and I’m not really sure how safe the city is, so I don’t want to leave for a walk and never return.

The World of Coca-Cola
Seriously, though, this place is so nice. One cool thing, though is that they have a complimentary town car that take hotel guests around the city as long as they’re going within ten miles of the hotel. I had the driver take me to the Coca-Cola factory.
I have a collection of Coke from around the world and wanted to taste all the different kinds of soft drinks that Coke makes on different continents. I also bought a hat in the gift shop. I was really nervous because I couldn’t try it on before I bought it because my hair was gelled and I was going to be meeting with the people from the accounting firm right when I got back and I knew my hair would get all jacked up and I didn’t have any hair gel because you can’t take it with you on planes anymore and I was also nervous because the size I bought was an XL and I knew that if the XL didn’t fit my head I was doomed and my head was officially big enough to qualify for eyesore status and I was also nervous because I wrote a run on sentence. It was really fun. But, honestly, that car the chauffeur drove me in was incredible! I’ve ridden in leather seats before, but there was something special about that car, because leather seats have never felt so comfortable. It was a pimped out BMW—so nice! I’m not just saying that to try to sound cool, either, because I know it wouldn’t faze* you anyway.

*I went through a phase where I thought faze was p-h-a-s-e, but changed the phrase from phase to faze so now phase doesn’t faze me anymore.

Urban dictionary: faze – when something doesn’t faze you it doesn’t bother you

His new girlfirend don’t faze me

The Restaurant
We went to a really nice restaurant, too. It was called Oceanaire. I had the best food. Mmmmmm…lobster bisque, delectable crab cakes (P.S. I hate that name. Hearing crab cakes reminds me of a chubby kid with acne for some reason. Weird, I know, but if I were a marketer that would be the first entrĂ©e name to go.) We also had this really good creamed corn and good beans and mashed potatoes that were drowning in butter. That part was actually pretty gross, but they tasted soooo good!

For dessert one of the recruiters from PwC was telling me about the brownies with ice cream there. He said that the brownie slice was as wide as giant slice of pizza and was about six to eight inches deep. I looked at him and inside was thinking, “This guy’s full of crap.” Haha, seriously, the brownies were so big! They were as big or bigger than he was saying. Then they gave us hot chocolate syrup and caramel coating to put on the dessert. I felt like Will Ferrell getting his candy shock on Elf. They also ordered cookies and milk, which you wouldn’t expect to find at a fancy restaurant, but it was supposed to be warm, gooey cookies and milk. Not so. The cookies were so crunchy and hard and lame. I was ticked. I almost broke my front teeth trying to bite into one. I had to break them with my hands and use my scrawny muscles because I thought my tooth would bust.

You wanna hear the saddest part about the whole night? I realized how sheltered I really am. I forgot how long I’ve lived in Utah until I remembered that there are people in the world that drink wine and coffee with dinner. All of the recruiters were drinking and everyone was drinking coffee and tea and talking about their favorite kinds of tea. “Yeah, that Coke factory was pretty cool,” I said. They did tell us to be careful not to stay out drinking too late. I guess some people in the past have come to the meeting the following day a little hung over. Luckily that won’t be me. Anyway, back to the saddest part. They ordered this giant key lime pie slice for my table. It was a giant triangle (6”x6”x6”). It looked so good! Then the waiter said, “May I recommend pouring cha-something over the key lime pie?” Yeah, I had no idea what he was talking about, but I figured that it was probably alcoholic. He brought out a pristine piece of pie unmolested by alcohol and a glass full of wine. I wanted to say, “WAIT! Let me cut a piece of the pie for myself because I can’t have alcohol.” I had already told one of my recruiters about the Word of Wisdom, but didn’t want to make a big deal for my whole table if they wanted the wine topping. No body likes a wine whiner. So, I was just silent and watched them ruin the perfect pie. There was one corner that was unaffected by the wine-trusion. That was the corner I consumed. It was honestly the best key lime pie I’ve ever eaten. How sad I was when everyone was stuffed and there was a half-pound of key lime pie left but it was doused in wine. I wanted to take the pie and scrape off the top and eat the whole thing—I had not been satisfied by the smidgen—but I resisted. For a Mormon, there’s no such thing as a wine win situation. Haha, okay, that’s enough of the lame puns.

So, WTHeck? How did I write so much about food? Maybe I am a glutton. I'd better cut back on the desserts so I don’t get diabetes.

My Unwieldy Head
This is just sort of an FYI sort of thing, but I was wearing my Coca-Cola hat for the first part of the morning the day after I got back from Atlanta and before class had even started I noticed that I was getting a headache. Normally, since it’s a Coke hat, you’d think it was just a caffeine headache, but I knew better. I guess the extra large hat isn’t as extra large as I thought, although it was, indeed, made for an extra large head. I doffed the hat in the washroom and gazed into the mirror and my eyes were drawn to the compelling evidence of a swelling head. Much to my chagrin, I had two red streaks across the front of my forehead where my hat once resided. It was in the similitude of the mark you get on your face after sleeping with your head on your arm after a heavy nap. It's weird because sometimes my eyes are bigger than my stomach and other times my head is bigger than my eyes. You know what I mean? Make sense?

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