I'm staying in a hotel in a suburb of Chicago that caters mainly to business people, also known as innocent fodder for my blog.
These are not the Donald Trump level of business people. They are the worker bees who have a lot of meetings, play tennis and network, during which they speak loudly and frequently on their cell phones and shake each others hands with lots of "I want to grow up and be a manager" gusto.
First, spot the error in this picture at the all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. Table 1: Button down cotton shirt/Khaki pants (aka BDKP), BDKP, BDKP; Table 2: BDKP, BDKP; Table 3: Large red Inspi(red) t-shirt, two-day-old black gym shorts, workout shoes from the clearance rack; Table 4: BDKP, BDKP, boring black unaltered for immediate wear skirt suit and sensible pumps.
Table 1 also features a person with manlights, probably administered at home with or without spousal assistance. He wants to be a D.J. but ended up as Assistant Marketing Vice Consultant. Still considering it as a weekend job and tells his buddies this endlessly. They guffaw and tell him that he can see lots of "bee-you-tiful women" then they talk behind his back about how he's lucky to get outside to mow the lawn with that troll of a wife.
This table also features the greatest assortment of business cliches. "It's really a tail wagging the dog situation." "The grass is not always greener. (Nyuk HA HA)." "Top notch. (Tahhhp Nahhhtch)" And the ever-popular, "I need a bigger cubicle."
I read this fabulous book called Bitter is the New Black by Jen Lancaster. Fantastic book - a must read. Parts of it are like Office Space but in real life. In one part, all of the Ivy League looking guys she works with are all named "Josh." Josh is everywhere in this hotel.
The best cases of Josh on caffeine were four guys in black track suits with red and white X-TREME FITNESS stitched on the upper left side. They pounded down the tiled lobby (where this computer is located - I've got the best seat in the house) like steroid-filled, caffeinated Jolly Green Giants wearing track suits. They obviously just came out of one of those pep-filled, peppy pep talk meetings they used to subject us to at my old job.
Except there weren't 900 people, ten percent of which actually got filled with light like a sinner in a revival tent. There were only four of them. Maybe more - the rest could still be in the meeting room basking in their pep. Anyway, they stopped at the front desk (also located near this computer). One of them said, "I'm READY. I'm PUMPED." Then they all started talking like people who have just been filled with the Lord. When there was finally silence, one of them shouted, "I'M EXTREEEEME!!!!"
That, of course, became my mantra of this whole trip. I've shared this with anyone who will listen to it. Often without background information so it just looks like I've got Extreme Tourette's.
OK. No more typing for now. This keyboard is not unlike the tiny keyboards that used to accompany computers in the early 80s. The keys are not necessarily in the right place nor actually push down and result in a letter when pushed. Excuse the typos.