I’m eating foraged chocolate and drinking stolen Diet Coke.
We auto show journalists (if I may call myself one) are scavengers, you see. We don’t really care about the cars; what we want to know is, do you still have any of those USB sticks in the shape of a bolt? Can I pick up another pair of bongos from Jeep for my friend? Are they serving pizza at Suzuki, or chili dogs at Dodge? Ooh, sushi at Mazda!
Today was a banner day for The Great Scavenge – there was a speech by Mark LaNeve at an exclusive dining establishment, and they saw fit to toss me a plate of grub when I was done. Okay, by “toss” I mean, “gratefully proffer” and by “grub” I mean filet mignon and coffee-flavored creme brulee. The filet was cold but delicious.
This has definitely been the most frustrating trip I’ve gone on for work. I spend most of my time pushing the reporters to get in front of the camera, and the rest of my time in a cavalcade of taxis. Except yesterday after the show – no taxis. No taxis for miles. I walked halfway to the Sheraton from Javitz, which took at least an hour.
The hotel front desk lady sympathetically pointed out that I was dripping wet. I nodded, as the gestures that came to mind would have required I drop any one of the three large containers I hauled across that lovely area of Manhattan called Port Authority.
Things did not improve when I got to my room to discover that, yes, I left my key in my other pants. And that the maid cleaned my room, which I don’t need – I’ll re-use a towel, and my bed was tousled just so, thanks.
I got almost literally no sleep last night, leaving me with a headache to beat all headaches, and I have 4 videos to edit tonight.
I’ve noted that my window opens wide, here on the 25th floor. If anything else goes wrong, I’m going to start throwing things out the window until catharsis is achieved.
PS I’m coming home with two sets of (kinda painful) headphones from Scion, 4 pens from Kelley Blue Book, a bag and two chocolate bars. I skipped the hip-hop-tastic Scion Hat.
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