What the hell am I doing drinking in L.A. at 26? - 19 April 2004

It took me quite a while to write the report of my last (and First) US trip.
One month later, I've finally absorbed all the madness that took place in those mad 10 days and I'm finally ready to write something about it.
Just one word of advice: if on Sunday morning you're going to run a marathon (a proper one, 42,195 km - 26 miles), DON'T even think about spending Friday night and Saturday in Las Vegas gambling, drinking and trashing yourself. IT IS NOT GOOD. Especially if the marathon is in Los Angeles, with 95° degrees…

Day 1 - From London to Coke Land

My longest trip by airplane was probably 3 hours, including 60 minutes of delay from some Italian city to some Polish airport. So, the idea of flying 8 hours it was quite exciting.
Hard WorkThank to the Man, Mr. Jonathan "cheeky" Clues, we upgraded the flight to world traveler class, with better and larger sits, more girls around, and some glasses of champagne offered by a gay steward who was probably in love with the cheekiness of my mate.
On the plane I tried to remember why I was going to the United States of America, land of freedom, freeways and free refills of soft drinks. The original idea was to run the L.A. Marathon, and do some work with my colleagues in Georgia and California. They had just opened a new office in Atlanta, and that was the first stage of our.

Other reasons? I guess take a look at the California Babes, and lose money in Vegas surrounded by alcohol and girls, and generally to have a good time. I had some more reasons, for example realizing one of the thing of my "10 thing to do before I die" : drinking in L.A. at 26 (don't ask me why, it was an idea I had since listening to the Bran Van 3000's song "Drinking in L.A.").
By the way, that was my fourth "to do" thing, just between the third "Running 10 marathons before I turn 30" and the fifth "have a threesome without paying the girls".  I'm definitely close the run 10 marathons (with LA, I already run eight), but I'm still working on the next.
I don't remember the next 6, I lost my list in a hotel in Los Angeles.

Anyway, my longest trip ever was good. The champagne (in a plastic bottle…)  flew, and I could even work on my powerbook, while watching movies on the screen. Girl with a Pearl Earring was incredibly boring, but Scarlet Johanson has an incredibly cute ass. No doubt about that after watching her again in Lost In Translation. Bill Murray rules, and, on the plane, I hoped he could win an Oscar (he didn't).
Flying to USHalf a day later we arrived in Atlanta. Nice airport, with some silly security measures. It took us probably 1 hour to get out.
Rob was waiting for us. Nice bloke, Rob. Englishman with an American wife. The bastard enjoys both sides of the Atlantic Ocean.
After setting up in his house, somewhere north-east from Atlanta, we went for a cheeky one (a "Welcome to America" drink session) in the Buckhead.

The jetlag hit me while I was drinking some lemonade (I think) in some bar (I guess) surrounded by some girls (I hope). I felt asleep, and God knows how, I lost my passport.
I can now clearly read on the police report they sent me few weeks ago that incident wasn't "Gang related" or "Drug related" or, incredibly, "Alcohol related". The "sobriety status" was "sober" and that the "Olaf Olgiati was using his passport to get into bars. He thinks he lost his passport at a club named tongue-n -groove in Buckhead".

My personal theory is that aliens kidnapped me for 5 minutes when I was pissing in the toilet, stole my passport but not my money, and brought me back just in time to wash my hands. Ah, those bastards also stole my chewing gums.
Obviously I didn't realize anything. I remember waking up at 5.30 in the morning and ask myself "where are my chewing gums?". At 9.00am I decided that the passport was lost as well.

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