I'm on a road trip for business in the nation's heartland. There's a gang of us here from the company...four men and five women. Right now we're driving from Des Moines to Sioux City. We've split up in two mini vans; the women in one and the men in the other.
In addition to being a sausage-fest in this car it's also a total geek fest. We've got the driver navigating with the GPS built into his Windows Mobile phone, one guy on his laptop using a wireless Sprint broadband device, while another guy has created a virtual wireless network and is piggybacking off of the broadband. Meanwhile I'm lounging in the backseat moblogging on the Treo. It's tough to keep a steady hand on the tiny qwerty as the car is bouncing higher than a quarter bounced off of Britney Spears formerly tight ass.
I stayed in a Hampton Inn last night. They've got black and white photos representing tidbits of Americana outside of each of the rooms. You know, things like cropdusting airplanes, wagon wheels, farm silos, and soapbox derby races. Look what was outside my room...now that's what I call personalized service.
Whoa...we just nearly bounced into a ravine on the side of the highway...I can just imagine the carnage of laptop cables, charging stations, mobile phones, and water bottles batting me in the head while I flip upside down in this poorly designed, shockless tin can. Ok...I'll try to check in again when we reach Sewer Sioux City.
