Author Archives: Luke Bennett

I’d call it a success!

I thought I had booked a 5:30PM departure from Tampa. I thought wrong. When I rechecked my itinerary I had selected one of the first outbound flights from TPA. It wouldn’t be so bad I reassured myself. At least I can escape the bridge traffic and have some smooth sailing.

When my alarm clock went off at 3:30AM my body hated the mistake. But I pushed through and headed towards Tampa. As I was crossing the bridge I noticed to lights on the two outside lanes of interstate. They were closed. What could possibly be happening at 4AM. As I drew closer I could see that there had been a wreck. It was no big deal due to the lack of cars though. What stuck out to me were the people standing around the wrecked cars. One police office and three prostitutes. I kid you not. Three prostitutes wearing strait hooker clothes. Its 2012, I honestly didn’t think they still dressed in a way to stand out from a crowd. I mean, isn’t there some sort of app to find hookers these days? It wouldn’t surprise me.

I have never been to the airport so early that the security line wasn’t even open yet. So I had to wait for 10 minutes for the TSA people to set up shop. I will say the lines are much more efficient when everyone is fresh on the shift.

When I finally set down to wait on plane boarding a little girl and her mother came to sit next to me. While still fighting the sleep from my eyes I felt the little girl’s hand touch my arm. Being polite I just ignored it and went on with my sleep fighting. Then she put her hand on my knee. At this point the mom chimes in to inform me that the little girl must think I am her father. “Your daddy’s not here anymore,” she tells the girl. “It just you and me now.” She continued saying these things as if they were an attack at me for being a man. She wasn’t even speaking directly to me, but she was speaking so that I could hear her and feel some sort of sympathy for her while being ashamed of being a man. I was probably less annoyed by the little girls curiosity of the world than this woman’s monologue.

Great, its only 4:30 and the day has already thrown enough curveballs at me. After boarding the plane, I noticed a guy dressed as a pilot who looked younger than I sit a few rows back. It struck me as weird but later as we were preparing for our final descent and I noticed his presence had vanished I began to prepare myself for my least favorite part of the flight, the landing. It was definitely the roughest landing I have ever experienced and I would say I fly a fairly decent amount. It hard to describe an unbalanced landing but I am safe so no harm done.

I was wearing my Florida Gators t-shirt when I went to rent my car (Which by the way, myth busted, I am only 24), and some man began attacking me for wearing a Florida shirt. I have lived in Louisville for six years, worn this shirt most of the time and never been attacked. Hell, Louisville is also tied for my favorite college sports program. But I guess this was just the foreshadowing of my weekend in a town where I was no longer a resident.

Friday I had some time to kill so I went to the record store and the mall. It was cold and rainy. I was under dressed and didn’t need the reminder of the weather I had left behind. As I was driving throughout the city something was different. It took me some time to figure out what it was, but Louisville just didn’t feel like home anymore. I finally realized what it was. When you have a place you are living, no matter where you go out and about, there is a central magnetic force pulling you back in. I no longer lived at my friend Marty’s house so that gravitational force was absent and I was just a visitor in another city.

The rest of the evening included your typical Bardstown Rd. shenanigans. Something I thought i had left behind. I am too old for that stuff.

Saturday I was awoke early (with only 4 hours of sleep, 7 in the past 48 hours) and went to the airport to pick up my friend/date for the wedding. We spent the day working on my Kentucky Fried Bucket List Adventures blog at Cherokee Park before the wedding. The wedding was my reason for visiting. It was actually a reception on the boat at Captain’s Quarters.

I had never been to Captain’s Quarters but I have always heard great things. So I figured it would be a great place to snag a few photo’s.

The reception was actually alcohol free, which worked out to be a good thing since I had several hours of driving ahead of me. So I took the opportunity to knock back several virgin Mint Juleps which were very delightful. The reception turned out to be a great time and an opportunity to catch up with some old co-worker’s I hadn’t seen in months. There was some dancing and even a carefully practiced dance by the bride and the groom.

Afterwards, I had to drive to Georgetown and then back to Louisville. By the time I finally had the opportunity to lay down it was 3:45AM. I needed to be at the airport early so I set my alarm for 6:45. (10 Hours of sleep for four days, love it!)

Just as the plane is pulling onto the runway guess what? The front wheel breaks.The captain comes on the speaker to tell us that apparently some safety mechanism for managing the load of the plane snapped off so we had to sit there for an hour. Some guy in front of me is complaining on the phone to someone about how the flight carrier is Delta and they have to go through several safety checks before the plane can continue. I am sorry, but I appreciate that. I didn’t purchase a Southwest ticket for a reason.

Then as I am asking the attendant (mainly cause she was smoking hot) if she had ever experienced anything like this, some know-it-all alpha male steps in to tell me “yeah, there’s this safety clip on the front wheel for checking the load of the plane and it snapped off.” Thanks captain obvious, I heard the pilot say that 30 seconds ago.

It was Friday night. We had no plans. Hardly any friends in Florida. I came home and slept. When I awoke at 9PM I was hungry. Hungry for sushi. But my roommate wasn’t feeling it. Let’s just drive until we find something good he suggested. That was good enough for me so I accepted.

We drove down 4^th street towards St. Petersburg. Nothing seemed appealing. Finally I saw something that looked happening as I passed. I utilized my Florida U-turn skills and within moments I was in the parking lot. It was an Irish pub. I thought I was burnt out on Irish pubs from excessive partying on Bardstown Rd. in Louisville but why not.

We walked in through the back onto a deck where a hostess was ready to greet us from the rear. She acted awkwardly as if she expected all of her guests to be accustomed with the standards and protocols of this establishment. Finally she looked at me and asked do you want to drink or eat. Eat I replied and we followed her to a booth on the wraparound deck.

As I was following her I couldn’t help but notice her style. She wore tight clothing and resembled something I would find in an independent coffee shop on any given day. The fashion statement was nothing in comparison to the hair. She was actually rocking a 1980’s David Bowie haircut.  I actually found myself attracted to this outdated doo. What does that say about me?

We sat at the booth and began to review the menu. Immediately we knew the price was more than we had anticipated paying for the night but what could we do? The vegan chili sounded pleasing but not completely filling so I decided to compliment it with the sirloin burger. I knew that it would leave me stuffed and probably be a bad decision in the long run, I just didn’t know how bad of a decision it would turn out to be.

I ate most of the chili and passed off the remainder to my roommate. My stomach was at 80% capacity but I knew I had to keep trucking through the burger that was on its way. When the burger finally came I was only able to eat about a quarter of it. I took a final bite and announced that this was the last bite I intended to take. My stomach was already expanding beyond its normal means at this point.

Our waitress came and brought us the checks. I slid my credit card in the plastic container of the bi-fold and handed it back. While I waited I knew my body had exceeded maximum capacity for ingested food and that this food would soon be exiting my body in some fashion or another.

The waitress returned with the bill and my card in the bi-fold. I opened it and wrote her a 20% tip. I tried to use my index finger and thumb to grasp my credit card but my attempts were futile. I decided to reattempt my grasp and rearranged everything within my hands. As I did so the credit card slipped right down the bi-fold and onto the ground.

Dammit I said to myself. It was dark near our booth so I slid out and tried to use what light I could to see where my card had fallen. It wasn’t there. What the hell? Then my mind had come to the realization of what had happened. The outside deck was built of wooden 2X6’s and somehow in one simple motion my card had slid from within my grasp through one of these narrow passageways and into neverneverland.

My mind switched into frantic panic mode searching for a solution like the engineer buried deep within me. The waitress could see that something was wrong so she came to our assistance. She provided no support and only informed us that this wasn’t the first time that this had happened. Beer me I said.

She brought us another round of brews and as we drank them we tried to reproduce the incident that had just happened. My roommate had an expired Subway gift card. We proceeded to drop it on the ground several times. Not once did it come close to falling through the cracks. Just my luck. I finished my beer.

I am going to throw up I said aloud. Not waiting for a response I hastily made my way towards the restroom. Once I was through the door I moved directly towards the stall and like the pureness of Ray Allen’s three point shot the vomit was already in full motion. Except it wasn’t pure like Ray Ray jumpshot. The throw up went everywhere. All over the toilet bowl, on the floor and even on my jeans.

I tried my best to clean what mess I could but there was only so much I could do. I cleaned my face up some and readied myself for an immediate departure. As I was walking back to the table I passed my roommate who was making his on restroom visit.

“We need to go now” I said more confident than any other statement I have ever made. He didn’t listen and proceeded to make his own visit to the pisser. I breezed by our table, swooped up my to-go box and rushed towards my jeep where I waited eagerly to flee the scene.

When he finally arrived he looked at me and laughed. Do you need me to drive he asked? No let’s just go I say. We pull out of the parking lot. Precisely at this time our waitress had just clocked out and was hoping into her beautiful Jeep. I only mention this because I have a thing for chicks who drive Wranglers. We smiled and I gave her the Jeeper’s wave. Fortunately for her she will never know the beautiful piece of artwork I left in the men’s bathroom of Three Bird’s Tavern.

At this point in the night there was only one acceptable solution to make all things right, a beerrun. We pulled into the Racetrac gas station to buy some brews. I walk towards the refreshments where I immediately notice a sign. “Dude, when can I buy beer here?” Underneath was a listings of times when you could buy beer in the state of Florida. Friday night only ran until midnight. I look at the clock. 12:03AM. Of course.

On Wednesdays, we get take out Chinese catered at work. I always get the Hunan Chicken. Afterwards, I get to enjoy my favorite part of the meal, the fortune cookie. I always stick the little slip of paper containing my fortune into my wallet as a constant reminder of my current fortune. I cracked open the cookie and to my surprise there was no fortune. I realized that I need no fortune and that I control my own destiny.

There’s an unforeseen consequence of moving to Florida. The abundance of close friends you seem to suddenly accumulate. If you’re not careful, you will begin to find yourself having house guests every given week in a month. These house guests don’t understand the strain that is put on the Floridian body either. For the guests, it is a weeklong getaway vacation of sleeping in, sun baking, and binge drinking at night. The Floridian works during the week while the visitor gathers his rest and energy for the night, but upon coming home, like a restless excited puppy dog, the visitor is ready to go go go. I have already lost count of the number of house guests that we have had in the eight weeks I have lived in Florida(actually I haven’t, the number is 5) and we already have more lined up for the upcoming months, but I am sure that Florida will be the death of me.

I have continued my pursuit of a new and exciting big boy job during these times as well. We are fortunate in this day and age with all of our technical assets that provide means of finding a job(Monster, CareerBuilder, Craigslist, etc…). I had a few interviews lined up when I decided to post my resume on the internet. This is when my life went into frenzy. I began receiving call after call from job recruiters looking to find out a little more about me. It was as this moment I realized this would be closest I would ever understand what it feels like to be Lebron James. Knowing that you have a skill that people need brings a sense of excitement, especially when you skill actually has a meaningful purpose to society.

On Saturday, I had the night to myself and was overwhelmed with a sense of boredom. I decided that this would be the perfect opportunity to check out the new Avengers movie that I have been hearing so much about. I had never gone to the movie theater by myself but figured I would be hard-pressed to find a companion on such short notice.

I pulled out of the apartment complex and to the red light intersection on Gandy Blvd. At this precise moment, the street lights and the traffic lights all lost power. Gandy Blvd. went dark(except for the Dog Track of course). Then I heard a screeching siren to my left. A fire truck was coming my way. It stopped and sat motionless like it was yielding to an imaginary street light. Confused, I had no idea what to do. After a few seconds of inactivity, I decided that since I was turning right on what should be a red, I went ahead and pulled out and left these concerns behind.

Donna Summer had just recently passed away, so the independent local radio station was playing a disco tribute. I cranked the radio, and cruised on. This is when the storms rolled in in a flash like manner. I had been warned about the accumulating puddles so I was careful not to hydroplane. These rainstorms are very hazardous to the inexperienced driver and should raise concern to all parents.

I arrived with five minutes until showtime at my destination. In hindsight, this was a poor decision in one of the most populated areas in the state of Florida. The ticket windows were packed. It probably would have taken 30 minutes just to get my tickets. I could not wait. Then I saw the self-ticketing machines. Unmanned checkout machines are probably one of the greatest inventions of our times (other than the idiotic users that try to use them). I was able to get my ticket in a matter of moments and make my way to the screen. I couldn’t help but to be amazed by the number of people at this theater though. There were so many people just idly loitering in the lobby. What is there to do at a movie theater besides buy your ticket, concessions and go to the screen?

When I finally I arrived in the showroom, I realized the mistake of my tardiness. Every seat in the room was occupied. FML. Then I spotted them. Three open seats in the front row. I hate the front row but what else could I do?

The movie was very enjoyable and I found that solo movie watching actually had its perks. A couple of movie hoppers found their way next to me at the climax of the movie but they were easily discouraged of their evil ways when I told them the seats were taken.