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Date: June 15, 2004
Location: USA
Now, Week Three of the SCETC Rock-Star World Tour is rapidly coming to a
close. What the heck does SCETC (pronounced, 'sket-see') stand for? Who
cares. Used to be called CSW, for Coalition Special Warfare, but someone
decided that name was too, umm, warlike, so they changed it into something
kinder with more syllables.
So far the tour has consisted mainly of a hideous trans-continental flight,
hours and hours of boring instruction, heat, humidity, feeble attempts at
communicating in a foreign language, lots of hi-speed driving, a few good
meals, some moonshine, water volleyball, and the anti-hilarious shenanigans
of the red-headed stepchild of our outfit, my roommate, Captain Steve.
Some might say that this sounds like an inauspicious beginning to the best
year of my life, but as you'll see, it's really not so bad, and besides,
there's nowhere to go but up, so begin the countdown! Five, four, three,
two, one.
It all began in a limo headed north up Interstate 95 to the Dulles
International Airport. But don't get all excited. It was a pretty ghetto
limousine - no airconditioning, and we were pretty sure that the ashes in
the ashtray probably had a high THC count. Anyway.
Arrived at Dulles, made our laborious way through baggage check and to our
gate. My lovely sister Ami came to see us off, everyone was quite impressed
with her - which is hardly surprising; unlike myself, the girls in the
family have been universally blessed with good looks and lots of smarts.
The flight to Frankfurt was unpleasant, crammed between a fat lady with bad
breath and a sneezing, snoring guy. Couldn't sleep, so I bought the "History
of the World" in Frankfurt and made it as far as the early Roman empire by
the time we landed in Cairo. Our bags, which should have been checked
through to Riyadh, debarked the plane with us, so we were obliged to haul
them around the tiny, warm, crappy airport.
--ed.
For more on Ed's travels to Saudi Arabia, check out the rest of his tales...
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