Wake up at 7am because the driver kills the main engine, which shuts down the A/C, so he can fuel up at the truckstop. Thirty seconds later, he fires up the generator and turns on the secondary A/C unit, so we don't roast in our bunks. He switches so the main unit won't suck up the diesel fumes and throw them into our bunks.
I get back to sleep, and finally wake up around 8:30. Long way to go yet to Columbus. Thankfully, all the retards will be asleep for some time to come. We've stopped so one of the other bus drivers can get food. We're at a McDonald's – ugh! I go in search of a USA Today from yesterday, because I never got one or had time to read it anyway.
Read the paper up front with the driver. First retard up has to take a crap.
It's that time of day where if the driver stops again, other people will wake up from the motion, they too will have to crap, and the next thing you know, we'll lose 45 minutes at the damn truckstop.
Sure as hell that's what happens…
We finally get to the hotel around 4:45pm. Now we have a night off, not a day off.
I decide to not go see the Stones. I want to SAY I went to see it more than I want to see it.
On the way in to the hotel's 'hood, we pass the Ruckmoor Pub, and The Winking Lizard Tavern. Hmmm, Winking Lizard, what do you think that's a reference to?
Might have to bag my other plan, which was to go to the Rusty Bucket Tavern.
Up to the room for some blogging and a shower.
While I'm in the shower, I get a couple of phone calls. Hmmm, who can that be?
Call around to my usual gang of dinner and beer pals. Somebody's managed to get some tickets to see the Stones. Wonder if that's what those calls were about. Oh well, better that someone who WANTS to see the show goes to it than my jaded ass.
Never connected with anyone by the time I'm ready to go out, so I head up towards the main road. The plan: one beer at the Ruckmoor Pub, one beer at the Winking Lizard, then a sushi dinner and back to the hotel.
Walk into the Ruckmoor and spot Eddie Kercher (production manager) sitting on a corner stool, talking to a couple. Grab a beer and hang out with them for a while.
The Ruckmoor is my new favorite bar in Columbus. Bud in the can is $1.75, the jukebox is amazing (more on that in a minute), and I'm one of the youngest people in the joint.
The jukebox is some new-fangled doodad that has an internet connection. You buy credits and either spend 1 credit for something that's already on the box, or spend 2 credits to search and download songs from a server on the internet. That part's kind of a rip-off, but there's four Mott the Hoople records on the server. Yeah!
Needless to say, I spend a bunch of money and download all the shit I wanna hear. No Mother's Finest, no Foghat, but I hit a bunch of favorites – Todd Rundgren, Mott the Hoople, the Outlaws, 10cc, Marshall Tucker Band, Badfinger, etc. Lovin' it!
Nobody knows what to make of my musical selections. I think I'm confusing them somehow...
Start slammin' beers with Eddie. He says a big gang of our guys are next door at the Mexican joint and are coming over when they're done.
Sho' nuff, 30 minutes later, about 10 very drunk guys come in.
Me and Eddie are both hammered by then, too. I haven't eaten since lunch, Eddie hasn't eaten all day and he's been drinking all day.
I order a pizza from a local joint which takes an hour to deliver. Great pie, though, worth the wait.
Carlsen's falling down drunk, so is Sean Bates. They both get escorted back to the hotel (10 minute walk) by a couple of guardian angel crew guys.
Me and Eddie split around 11:15. Had enough. Walk back to the hotel.
I'm blogging until midnight, then I'm out…