Should have called ahead.....

OK guys, this week's post is a special request that I'm more than happy to fill.

As, the old adage states: an ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure. Turns out, this is pretty good advice for most any situation.

As I wrote in my first entry, I studied music in college. What I did not mention, was that I dropped out of school with one semester left to enlist in the U.S. Coast Guard. It was the best decision I've ever made, career wise. It sounds crazy to be that close and quit, but when you're burned out it's actually an easy move. I spent my first year in the CG tending buoys on the Cape Fear River in North Carolina. It was a very difficult, disgusting, and rewarding job. After that year was over, I decided I had been "rewarded" enough and went to A-school to make rate. I spent nine weeks in Yorktown, VA completing Marine Science Technician A-School. For the non-CG savvy, an MST deals with regulatory compliance, pollution prevention, and what ever else falls in their laps.

The year following the landfall of hurricane katrina, I spent finishing up my bachelor's degree in Security Management. This degree is similar to criminal justice, but focused heavily on physical security and emergency management. Now, before you all fall asleep, I'll get to the point. My career, after my enlistment ended, as a CG civilian based pretty much preparedness 24/7. Half of my job was to be the hurricane officer for Sector New Orleans. This entailed writing an evacuation plan and putting it in place with absolutely no budget. I learned a lot about planning after working through Isabel, Ivan, Katrina, Rita, Gustav, a huge oil spill in the river, and the deepwater horizon spill. But one thing really stood out, planning is critical. The easiest thing to do is shoot from the hip and throw the plan out the window, but that's precisely when mistakes begin to pile up quick. You would think that seeing all of this in my work life would've taught me a little something.......you would think.

I love Alabama football. Following the ins and outs of Alabama football is far beyond a hobby, it's obsession. I don't just watch during the season. I follow spring practice, fall practice, and recruiting. That means I spend a ton of time (not as much lately) watching scratchy videos of high school kids playing football from all over the country. For example, when Reggie Bush was in High School, I watched tape on him long before he committed to USC. I still remember the picture on his player profile where he was wearing a track uniform instead of football. I know, it's sad.

The only person that supports me in this endeavor is my best friend AtrickPa. Ah, forget it. I realize many of you may have figured out his real name. It's Patrick. Amanda assured me that encryption is not my strong suit. Anyway, every year Patrick and I scour through e-bay and stub hub to find semi-reasonably priced tickets to Alabama games. We usually hit one, maybe two, a year. It's been fewer lately because we both have kids now, but we do what we can. Well, in 2007 we scored great tickets to an out of conference game against Florida State. Here's a detail that would prove to haunt us later. The game would not be played in Tuscaloosa or Tallahassee. Instead, a neutral site was chosen, Jacksonville.

I'm not sure if any of you have ever been to Jacksonville, but it's quite a hike. Mapquest said that it should take us about eight hours to get from my house to the stadium. Now, eight hours is nothing. I love road trips, mostly because I hate flying. I've driven 17 hours with no problem, many times. But, there is just something about driving across the pan handle of Florida that kills you. I equate it to the Lord of the Rings trilogy. You know it's only six hours long, but half way through two towers you find yourself screaming at the TV. "RUN FRODO! DON'T WALK. GOOD LORD, HOW LONG CAN IT POSSIBLY TAKE TO GET TO MOUNT DOOM!

So, eight hours of reality turns into something like thirty soul crushing hours of monotony. For some reason, I always forget a small detail. It's like watching a sitcom where the main character misses the cute girl's flirting glance, only to toil in love anguish for the entire season. (Jim and Pam anyone?) Well, on this little adventure it completely slipped my mind that we might actually need somewhere to sleep after the game. I guess I thought we would do a drive over/drive back. Yeah, right! Another fun fact that I should have noticed was that Auburn (satan) was playing Florida in Gainesville on the same night.

We got an early start that morning and made it to Jacksonville just in time to park and hit the stadium. Three hours later, we slinked back to the car, sun-burned and depressed from an Alabama loss. There was no way we were going to get a room in Jacksonville, so I decided that we would just head toward Slidell and stop when we got tired. That didn't take long. We made is all the way to Lake City, FL. A cozy little one tooth town in the panhandle that was just big enough to have a handful of hotels near the interstate. We swung in to Taco Bell for a nutritious meal and watched the remainder of the AU/FL game on their TV. Then the geography hit us. All of those inbred AU fans are headed this way. We might be looking for a room for a long, long time.

We quickly finished our taco perfection and hit the door. We sloughed off the nagging idea of trouble as we hit the parking lot of the first hotel. A really nice Hampton. No luck. In fact, the girl behind the desk may have giggled a little as we casually stated that we wanted to check in. We then tried a few more, only to be rejected. Then, on our next to last try, the desk clerk gave us a very hopeful piece of information. Notice, I didn't say helpful. He cringed a little as he informed us that every hotel in Lake City was full save one, the america's best value inn! Value is a tricky word. I should have taken heed of the look in his eye when he said it. It was very reminiscent of the nervous, telling look that a hostage gives an unknowing cop at the door. He may have even mouthed "don't do it." But, I didn't get it.

Saying this hotel was a value is like saying that the $5.99 ribeye, stuffed with giblets of broken glass, is a heck of a buy! We arrive at the hotel to find that they had saved the best parking space just for us! In fact, they saved most every space. hmmm. We think nothing of it, grab our bags, and plow through the front door ready to hit the sack. And there it was.....nothing. To say the lobby was sparse would be an understatement. There were no light fixtures, no plush furniture, no fresh flowers. There was only a particle board desk with a metal folding chair on the other side. No attendant. We stood there for a few minutes. Surely the staff was hard at work preparing for the rush of guest for the evening. Yeah, that had to be it. After a few minutes I kind middle eastern man slowly walked to the desk. He almost seemed surprised that we wanted to check in. He fumbled around with the paperwork as if the process was foreign and finally swiped our card to cover the fare.

As we asked for the key, he informed us that the electronic lock on the door did not work. We could just let ourselves in. He stated that the hotel had just been renovated so some of the new devices still had glitches. Seemed plausible. He told us to just turn the deadbolt once we were in, to make sure we were safe. OK, that's a little scary. We grab our bags and head down the hall about 15 feet, to the first available room. Well, that is really convenient for us to get the first room. That way, we don't have to take any pesky elevators and huff up and down the hallways. We get to the room, and sure enough, the door is cracked open. We head inside to find the single most filthy, smelly, and possibly infested room I've ever seen. It smelled like that rush of warm air that hits you in the face when a dump truck passes by. The carpet was moldy and sticky. There were roaches in the bathroom and the room had no furniture besides two full size beds and a TV on a stand. Yep, we just rented a future murder scene.

We quickly drop our stuff and head up to the Chilli's on the corner for a cocktail. As we return to the hotel, we notice that Haj, our friendly attendant is no longer manning the front door. We quickly head in, make a plan to get about six hours of sleep and get the hell out of this dump. I try to turn on the TV to watch sportscenter. Hmm, the remote is dead. Never mind, I'll just use the controls on the TV. Wait, there's only a power button. That's cool, I'll go ask Haj if he has any extra batteries lying around. It was then that we met him. Haj's late night relief. He wasn't at the desk though. He was in the office, which consisted of a chair, a small TV, and a dorm sized refrigerator. He was about 5'10", 350 lbs, with long curly hair. He was wearing dirty tube socks, boxer shorts, and a too tight t-shirt with a lifetime's worth of stains on it. As I approached the door he was shoveling cereal, mostly, in to his mouth and laughing WAY to hard at a sitcom.

I think I spooked him as I got his attention. He quickly turned around, with a startled look, and eloquently stated, "What?" Nice. "Umm, excuse me, but our remote is dead and I was wondering if maybe you had some extra batteries lying around?" "No," he retorted. "But, you can use mine, if you want to." He then fumblingly handed me a sticky universal remote, that he apparently stored on top of his belly, and quickly returned to his show. I froze. Was this a joke? Was he also going to bring me a half wet towel in the morning to dry off with? Dear God, please let this end.

Patrick and I then decided to forgo sportscenter for the night. We each laid, fully clothed, on top of the covers of our respective beds, using our bags as pillows. It was at this time that I had to break the tension. I mentally torture Patrick. I begin detailing to Patrick how Haj and Grimey would soon be picking the locks to our doors, making sure that we were asleep. They would then probably chloroform us, rape us, kill us, and sell our organs to fund Grimey's hardcore cereal addiction. Trust me, I was very detailed in this account. We both are laughing so hard that it somehow takes our minds off of the fact that my story is probably factual.

We sleep just long enough to see the sun rise. We lived! Sometimes it takes a Haj and Grimey type situation to remind that mommy isn't there to wipe your butt for you anymore. Make a plan, or pay the consequences.