This morning I flew out of Boston and made the first leg of my journey to Australia. While mostly uneventful, my flight was delayed by 30 minutes. Luckily, mom and dad kept me from being too bored in the airport and I arrived in LA without a hitch. LA is very beautiful and there are palm trees EVERYWHERE.
Once in LA, I had nine hours to kill before my next flight. Since I arrived at 3 in the afternoon (Cali time) there weren’t many tourist attractions that I would have time to visit. I decided to go to a nearby mall instead. I managed getting myself on the airport shuttle and to the city bus station when I realized that I didn’t exactly have bus fare; I had larger bills, but no singles (#FirstWorldProblems).
Since I was mostly surrounded by hotels and parking lots, I decided to take a walk to a nearby bank. “Nearby” really means about half a mile away; thank God for Google maps. At least I can say that I got my steps in today. And, hey, it was a beautiful day for a walk in southern California.
After getting bus fare and making my way back to the station, I was finally able to get to the mall. My body believed it was about 8pm at this point, so wayyyy past my dinner time. I decided to go to a restaurant called Lucille’s Smokehouse.
After promptly getting a beer, I was informed that this restaurant smokes all their meat in a huge smoker (to my right) and that they had three house BBQ sauces. Now, while I may have been over hungry and tired, the pulled pork sandwich I ordered was the best one I’ve ever had. No lie; the sauce was delicious and the meat melted in your mouth. Even the biscuit I tried was delicious, but it was covered in a sweet butter, so it had to be good. They even brought out a warm towel for me to clean my hands with when I was done eating. Talk about service!
After finishing my meal, I still had time to kill, so I pampered myself. A haircut and a manicure later, I was ready to begin my journey back to the airport.
I stopped in a Starbucks before leaving the mall, and stood in line while a 13 year old Hispanic boy with a heavy accent ordered three coffees that didn’t exist and paid with a $100 bill. Needless to say, the sassy gay barista was having none of that kid, but still exercised what seemed to be the very last of his patience. He was very thankful that I knew exactly what I wanted to order (and that it was on the menu) and that I didn’t pay in large bills. He even spelled my name right on the cup (I didnt even spell it for him!).
Now I have just another hour left to wait before I can board my 16 hour flight to Brisbane. I will arrive there on Thursday morning (so Wednesday evening for all of you back home). Here’s hoping that I fall asleep for a little bit so I can enjoy arriving in a new city.
Until thursday, my friends!