And on the topic of American speech - is everyone aware that it's now mandatory here to put absolutely everything into the future tense? For example, when you check into a hostel, the spiel goes as follows: 'So...you're gonna go up to the second floor, and you're gonna turn right, and you're gonna be in dorm 3 [I suppose this is all literally correct] ...and there's gonna be a shared bathroom at the end of the corridor [meaning there isn't one now?!] ...and your bill's gonna be $75 [OK, so I'll pay later]...which you have to pay now, sir [oops]"
No doubt it won't be long before this makes its way across the Atlantic. Perhaps such usage merely reflects the influence of Schrodinger; the receptionist is implicitly contending that such things as bathrooms cannot be truly said to exist until they are perceived.
First port of call in Atlanta was an appointment at the office of the British Consulate-General, to get an emergency travel document to replace my passport, which I lost in Indianapolis. Yes indeed. I didn't mention it at the time, partly because I'm a firm believer in the stiff upper lip, treating those two impostors just the same, beneath the thingummies of what-d'you-call-it, etc. But mainly because I don't like to burden the blog with my misfortunes unless they have comedy value, and this one didn't. I have no idea how I came to lose the passport: I only know that I unwittingly achieved a smooth and seamless transition from having it to not having it.
Anyway it's all sorted now, with no harm done other than me being relieved of £172.50 by Her Majesty's Foreign & Commonwealth Office (£100 for the emergency travel document and £72.50 for the replacement passport when I get home). As a foreign national without a passport, boarding my plane to Atlanta at Indianapolis necessitated a rather heavier degree of physical intimacy than usual between me and the guy with the plastic gloves. There was a pat on each buttock, an inside-of-belt-line forage, and also some cupping. But no prostate exam. I can hardly complain.
As for Atlanta itself...meh. Lovely AirBnB house, though. I shall miss those dogs.
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| Atlanta by day, from the top of the Westin Hotel |
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| Atlanta by night, on a long exposure |
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| When I lived in Edinburgh, I used to laugh at Chinese tourists taking photos of the Elephant Café (where JK Rowling started writing the Harry Potter books). Now here I am, taking pictures of the house where Margaret Mitchell wrote 'Gone With The Wind'. And I haven't even read the bloody thing. It only goes to show, doesn't it. |
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Edd vs Food #46
Mediterranean stromboli, artistically photographed by me at the Pizza Joint,
125 Richland Avenue West, Aiken SC.
Chicken, spinach, sun-dried tomatoes, feta, mozzarella, Romano cheese, and a side of marinara.
How come I got to age 40 without trying stromboli, or even knowing what it was?
All a bit dough-heavy for me though.
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| The dogs of AirBnB: Bentley (l) and Winter (r) |
