Looks like I have internet, huh?
Apparently, there are certain benefits to arriving at 5:30 AM. Drawbacks are obvious. It's 2:30 AM for the internal clock; and you got maybe one hour of sleep interrupted frequently by the passenger behind you sticking their foot against your arm through the tiny crack in the seat that Northwest allows and the foot doesn't even belong to a cute 29-year old of the sex you are attracted to (paca suddenly remembers who his readers are and their approximate age, did I say 29-year old? no, no, no, I said 41-year old) but a 70 year old looking person of the sex you aren't attracted to.
Where was I?
Oh, the benefits include that there's almost no one around. You walk relatively calmly through the terminal; somehow your little red roller bag is the second item off the baggage carousel; you are the very first person from your flight, and there don't seem to be any other flights, up to the traffic circle, such that one person asks you where you are going and points out the van you want, a van that is already sitting there and waiting for you and you are the first person on; and then the van only waits about 5 minutes for one more passenger before taking off.
Boy, what a take off though. The driver drives like he's in another country in which there are no traffic lights or lanes or stop signs and it's a complete free for all and you have to learn to shoot the gap around the opening car door (will the person get out without looking and find his life is over due to the barreling airport van?), only in San Francisco, there actually are traffic lights and lanes and stop signs. Just not for our van. Or maybe the driver thinks he's training for a remake of Beretta, because I swear we got lift off somewhere around the Haight Ashbury this way sign.
So you tip him a couple dollars extra because you have something to write about now and you've also completed the first two stages of astronaut training just by going to your hotel.
But you know things are going to get boring now, because it's just 6:30 AM and your hotel's check-in time is 3:00 PM. No chance they are going to have a room available by chance.
But they do.
Lucky dawg. The hotel's going for retro elegance with Dean and Sinatra in the lobby, well, at least their voices. And those little plastic knobs on closet doors that are supposed to look crystal-ish. My grandmother had these sorts of things. And a large painting, make that a print, of a man in a black suit looking adoringly at a woman in some sort of long white cascading dress that extends 4 feet past her feet as she lounges on a garden veranda.
And free high speed internet. I'm going to go snag a muffin from the continental breakfast and then take a nap.