I've always wanted to visit Atlanta. It's where my favorite Housewives are from! However, spending two days in the airport with nary a hotel room in the city when I am trying desperately to get to Buenos Aires was not quite how I imagined it.
So here I am praying that the flight to Sao Paolo they've booked me on actually takes off and listening to some weird hippy kids play the guitar and have, I swear to God, a singalong. None of them look of age so they don't have any excuse to be doing a thing like that. There are a lot of military guys around which I keep thinking might come in handy if this turn out to be the beginning of the actual apocalypse. One young soldier hollered at me that he was here to save me as he and his friend exited the tram. He looked all of eighteen and he added as an afterthought that he was a little drunk when he realized that I was on the phone. Good thing he told me that.
I keep thinking that being stuck here would be more fun if I had some roller skates.