Wednesday, May 02, 2007

Long Flight

I'm sitting here posting with what sort of feels like a two-day hangover. It's not that I'm really hungover, just a little tired from a two-day down and back to the happiest place on Earth. We had a celebration for our top sales associates at Mickey's home this past Monday, so I hopped on a Southwest flight down to Anaheim.

Now there are two very different flights that I must always experience, one going to the function and one returning. Any time we have these gatherings, be they celebrations like this was or mere meetings, the nature of each flight always seem to be the same. For the flight going down I am almost always energized and excited for the coming event. I'm filled with anticipation and the flight seems like a blink of an eye as I travel to my destination.

Most attendees usually gripe and moan about attending these functions. However, when the adult beverages start flowing at night, after they let us out, all complaints seem to magically disappear. I tend not to whine so much about these get togethers. Of course I worry about the potential that my store will be a smoke infested pile of charcoal rubble when I return, but I need to trust my managers will know what to do if needed. I'll cross my fingers just in case.

The return flight is the one I rarely look forward to. This is the flight that I'm usually thinking to myself, "Sweet Lion of Zion! Just get my pointy butt home!" I'm most likely tired, grumpy and ready for the flight to land and get my happy self slumped into my car seat homeward bound.

These two flights were no different...flying down to the celebration, excited and pumped; returning, exhausted and hornery. Okay maybe the freely flowing lemon drops did not help. Uh, it's not that I partook in such deviant behavior, I'm just saying. Er, yeah, just saying. I will say that it is an odd feeling to close a bar at the Disneyland Hotel pool. There is definitely something wrong in that statement, "We closed down the bar at the Disneyland Hotel pool..." 2 a.m.-ish and still out and about in the Happiest Place on Earth. WRONG

James Bond made drinking and carousing
seem so mysterious and glamorous.
The reality is, at 2 a.m. at the Disney
Pool Bar...I felt more like Norm.
Here is the recipe for a long, LONG, flight home:
  1. Someone besides me is paying for the drinks
  2. Close down the bar
  3. Have a 6 a.m. wake up call
Hmmm...maybe there is a little carryover, but that was one Helluva long flight home...