Atlanta, I barely know you. But I like you.
It’s one of my favorite shows: Atlanta, with Donald Glover. And I don’t mind the sports teams there. I don’t like them. I don’t dislike them. I like Atlanta.
Fuck the airport though. That fucker stressed me out on Monday morning. The line to security was over an hour long… I barely made it to my packed flight. And the flight had the most babies so far. The two year old baby shouted throughout the flight for no reason. It was… well… I wasn’t the dad and I hated life. I can’t imagine the dad.
Atlanta again for work. Duluth, Georgia to be accurate. Northeast Atlanta. I took a red-eye flight Thursday night to arrive Friday at dawn. My teammates flights got canceled so they had to scramble to get a new flight. A nightmare scenario for a travel job. I was instructed to take a Lyft to my hotel and I would be reimbursed. I haven’t. I should text them about this.
However, they already paid me. I want more money. I should call them about this.
I got to the hotel before dawn. Exhausted. I needed sleep. There was no one in the lobby. After an hour or so, someone arrived at the lobby and they told me I could check-in early. Yay. And I was also welcome to eat breakfast. Score. I had some tasty grits with cheese and a classic Southern breakfast. Shit. From a Holiday Inn but still fucking good after a red-eye flight.
I got a room for myself and took a well deserved nap. I woke up to text messages that the hotel made a mistake. I didn’t get a single room and I had to switch rooms to be with a roommate.
The roommate… well… I shouldn’t talk about work anymore. But dude had money and is just doing the job it seems because he was forced to. Capitalism at its finest. He told me he is set to get a hefty inheritance and that he gets a nice allowance monthly. More than what I make in months. Just like that.
He was chill. But couldn’t wake up. I thought he was going to quit the job on the spot.
The rest of the job.
My chair was comfortable this time. My back still hurt like a motherfucker. That’s why I want more money. My hand and wrist also hurt. It’s more than 40,000 pictures in one weekend. And I nail most of them… I think. I can’t really review my own work except for what they post on Instagram, on the camera (which never looks the best), or the little I can see the shots on the Macbook. I think they are great. I think they need to pay me more money.
After shooting thousands and thousands of pictures, I still have to help all to pick-up everything and pack the truck. I worked 16.5 hours on Sunday. That’s two days of work in one day and night. Saturday was similar. Friday was shorter hours but included the flight. Monday is also flying time. The airport was a fucking nightmare, the flight had babies.
I finished Bob’s Burgers the movie. It’s just a very long episode. I liked it ok. Tried to sleep, but the screaming baby didn’t let me.
During work, with the little time I have, I swiped left and right on Bumble and Tinder. Atlanta has better options than any city I’ve been so far.
After work on Friday, I went to Marlow’s Tavern, a bar that was walking distance from the hotel. I got off work at around 10 pm. The tavern closed at 11 pm.
I sat at a bar and was served by an Asian bartender. Why is this relevant? It’s not. But now that I think about it, the restaurant was diverse with every race.
Maybe that’s why I like Atlanta more than other cities. There was a bit of everything.
One of the reasons to do this job, to drink beer in different cities.
They had 3 local Georgia beers on tap. And I should do a better job at taking notes of what I’m drinking, but after so much work, I’m exhausted and all I want to do is have some beers and go to bed (to do it all over again). I do shitty Instagram stories tagging the brewery and thoughts on the beer.
IG archives show me that I drank the following Georgia beers:
SweetWater 420 extra pale ale. It was what I needed after work, but I didn’t think much of it. No lacing. Just an okay beer. Could be way hoppier and dankier.
Dr. Robot Berry Lemon Sour by Monday Night, it was red pour and a nice beginner sour. Could be way more sour. Crowd pleaser for sure.
Tropicalia by Creature Comforts, the best of the three I had at Marlow’s. Nice hoppy juicy beer.
I asked the bartender if I could buy a can of beer and take it to the hotel. He said I couldn’t. I explained my situation, he said, okay but I had to sneak it out. I asked what was the best local beer in the house. He gave me an IPA by Scofflaw Brewing called Basement. I drank it off the can in the hotel to finish the night, it was a solid juicy IPA that did me good.
I asked the bartender what was the house favorite… and drum roll please. TADADADADADADA.
Delicious IPA by Stone. I was like bruh… I’m coming from the land of that beer.
On Saturday I drank beers from the hotel. They had a double IPA in a can by Orpheus Brewing. It was a bit sweet and not of my liking, but still, drinkable double IPA for a hotel lobby. The other beers were Goose Island, so not really local but you know, a major Chicago brewery from forever ago. They were solid.
Sunday, I drank a leftover beer I bought in the hotel lobby. Sunday I worked way too much. I slept all of Monday back in Tijuana.
So… So far I had beer in Richmond, Kentucky, Spartanburg, South Carolina, Warren fucking Ohio, and Georgia. To recap beers, the Kentucky beer was:
Debaser IPA by Gravely Brewing. Though based in Kentucky, it is brewed in Ohio. I wasn’t a big fan. It’s supposed to be a hazy heavily hopped with Citra one of the hops I recognize the most. It’s my sour diesel of hops. It didn’t taste like many other Citra beers I’ve had.
I bought two bottles of bourbon in Kentucky though. Those are KILLER! I have a date this Friday with a chick that is super hot but it’s not my type and we’re supposed to drink the bourbon. We’ll see what happens.
Beers in Spartanburg, South Carolina. Shit. I forgot I even went there. South Carolina beers:
Pangeae Brewing from Greenville, served at The Local Fig. Bartender knew nothing about beers. I had to Google them to know sup. I didn’t write notes. My blog says not much. So I forgot the beer.
A pilsner from Lincoln and South Brewing from Hilton Head Island. Who knew that was a place. Apparently, Vermont inspired brewery. I wrote “damn fucking clean pilsner.” So I was impressed by it. It was the Beach City pilsner. I’m sure. It was fucking great.
And a cranberry sour by Birdsong Brewing Company from Charlotte, North Carolina. It was also very good. I wrote the the IPA was the lamest, so the first beer was the forgetful not good beer.
Saturday I didn’t drink.
Sunday I went to the other and only bar in Spartanburg, Main Street Pub. The brewery next door was closed. Shit closes early in little towns. Main Street Pub closed at 11:00 pm. I barely had time to drink beers. I already wrote that the bartender was awesome, here are the beers I had.
Sweet Carolina Kölsch by Low Tide from John’s Island, SC. Spot on.
Perni-haze by Wicked Weed Brewing from Asheville, NC. Smelled great, didn’t taste as awesome as it smelled. When you come from a land of haze and hops…
Mortal Wombat by Liability Brewing Co from Greenville, SC. Loved the name. It tasted like they used CTZ hops which is rare nowadays and I doubt it, but I liked it. Yep, just looked up the hops. It has Azacca, Centennial, and Comet. Azacca is what I tasted I believe.
And finished my Spartanburg trip with a Honey Pie IIPA by Birdsong. It didn’t have much honey. But it was a nice drinkable Imperial IPA. I barely slept that night and I was at the airport.
Then fucking Warren, Ohio. The place that makes me want to ask for more money. I didn’t make much money to go that place. I drank only two beers that were good, but had dinner at Outback and it was fucking horrible.
And Atlanta now.
I loved Atlanta, best place so far. Spartanburg was cool, but could never see myself in a place like that. Much less in Richmond, Kentucky. And FUCK no Warren, Ohio.
The reason I enjoy the job. I get to see cities I never knew existed. And I like that. Even though I barely get to see them. I wish I had more time to see them. And I wish it paid more.
The only thing is, I miss my cats. I don’t miss Tijuana. I miss my cats.
I would travel year round if it was a possibility and it paid me. It inspires me to write. It inspires me to live.
Back in Tijuana, I’m already depressed. There’s nothing to do but bitch about the city and the border. I have work tomorrow. Photography work that I forgot I do because I haven’t done it in all of 2023. I’ve barely touched my cameras in all of 2023. They feel ancient now that I work with better cameras. I don’t want to touch cameras after shooting more than 40,000 pictures in one weekend.
Alas, I must. To make more money. More money, more problems. More shit to pay. My car is dying. I need more equipment. I have debt. Fucking student loans. Fucking student loans.
I need to make way more money. Buy my books and shit. No one has in a long time. I have a box of 25 books to sale still. I’ve been making more money in 2023 than in many years past and I still need to make WAY more money.
Through work in Atlanta, this anonymous chick messaged me on Instagram. She told me she travels all through Baja every year in her camper van. She showed me the brand of the camper van and told me she had it pimped out with a shower and more. She planted the fantasy of going with her and she sent me sexy pics without ever showing her face. She could’ve been a dude but I doubt it.
But after giving me a lot of fantasies of traveling Baja with a hot chick in a camper van, she ripped them out. Telling me she doesn’t need me or a man for her trip. I’m not sure why she hit me up and started flirting with me in the first place. But it hurt.
At the same time, it made me forget about my ex for a while. The pain of not being with her, or thinking she’s the love of my life… that might not be forever. It’s her birthday soon and I miss her, but she can do whatever she wants. I might find someone else.
All we need is a little fantasy she quoted Billy Joel. Which tells me she’s older than me. I enjoyed that fantasy. It’s one of the reasons I wanted to date that other chick the beginning of 2022… traveling in a camper van through Baja… and hopefully, getting paid to do so.
I have a tour this Saturday. So even on my week off, I do work. Then I fly again to do more work. To Columbus, Ohio.
I rather be busy. So that’s good. I fucking hate crossing the border though.
I need more money. Buy all the shit I sell. Or support me by liking all my media and sharing my shit. This post needs a picture and I have none. Might as well post the picture that started the fantasy with that chick that just left me high and dry. The rainbow over Hong Kong. She started messaging me because of that picture. And it grew to a sexy Baja fantasy after that. That’s how life works?
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