Ohh-Kay!

First things first, I have a rough time flying. As much as I attempt to think logically about the statistics and what-not, I am a balled up mess of anxiety (so balled that Xanax DOES NOT WORK). But I have a system: ALCOHOL. It is the only thing that allows me to function and not flip the fuck out. So, when I arrive at the airport, I typically have a tall Sam Adams and a shot of Jack Daniels (two if I made it to my terminal in time).

HOWEVER, my flight out of Cleveland was at 5:30 am and DAMMIT I still do not own a freaking flask. I took the rapid into the airport at 3:48am. THREE FREAKING AM. I obviously did not sleep the night before I left (and I cannot sleep on planes) sooooo… let’s just leave it at “interesting.”

And even more interesting, the bars do not begin serving until 5am at Cleveland Hopkins. To which, I had no time to drink.

I had to wait until the actual flight to have a drink. ON THE TINIEST PLANE I EVER SAT IN. FML.

Fast forward an hour and so many minutes later, I’m in Hot COLDASAWITCHESTIT-lanta, saddle up to the airport bar, and the bar is only serving coffee (and probably milk, but WTF?). NO ALCOHOL UNTIL 9am. FML x2. Seriously though, isn’t Atlanta like the King of Krunk and Pimp Cups? Doesn’t that mean like drinking your balls off or something. I want just a mini-pimp of something resembling liquor.

Can we go back and change airport liquor laws to not coincide with the lame laws of the state? For serious.

Thankfully, I was only stuck in Atlanta for an hour, until my final flight to Tampa (yay, for those reward miles and not being able to find a direct). Oh, and AB & I had to fly separately.

Upon arrival to Tampa (with AB’s flight coming in about an hour after mine), we head over to the Marriott Waterside. It was in walking distance of some restaurants and attractions (and I LOVE the new trolley system through the city!). We grabbed some Thai at a mediocre restaurant not really worth mentioning, then trekked over to The Florida Aquarium.

It’s not as great as some of the other aquariums I have visited (Atlanta and Baltimore being my favorites), but it was a fun afternoon of giggling at penguins and river otters. Acting like we are twelve is so much fun. Then, I ruined my spray tan by reaching into a tank to pet a starfish. One half of my arm was white, the other tan.

This was why I intended to stay away from the hot tubs. Guess I can do that now. Because there will be no outdoor swimming and sunning in cold-ass Florida.

For dinner, we located a few Cuban joints in Ybor City, and decided on Carmine’s (sticking to the Cuban-influenced dishes on the already intense and broad menu). The food was so good, and our waiter suggested an even “gooder” place to hang afterward – New World Brewing Company. Imagine combining the beer cooler selections of Edison’s Pub, The Greenhouse Tavern & Melt, adding in some hot lesbians and placing an all-vinyl-spinning DJ in the corner. While determining whether we were truly in a gay bar or just a really awesome bar at that, we sat back and enjoyed some great beers and awesome music. The only thing I did NOT like about the bar was the smoking. OH, how I do NOT miss smoking in bars. NOT ONE BIT.

This DJ played everything from old trip-hop (Moloko) to vintage Hall & Oates (truly loved the scratchy, vinyl sound). This guy was seriously raiding my preferred shuffle! I joked about him playing NWA — AND I SHIT YOU NOT, he played NWA. On vinyl.

AB asked him for some Seger, to which we were denied. *sigh* Then, a couple songs later, he found a soundtrack with “Old Time Rock & Roll.” So awesome beyond words. This is something Cleveland needs. A REAL DJ. VINYL shuffle of the most random. And if this exists (and good beers are served to boot), you must let me know immediately.

After cabbing back to the hotel, we met up with a couple girls at the bar there and finished off our first night in Tampa.

Night well done. Times two.

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