The next morning I set out in search of much needed food. And, after bypassing a “guest services” attendant who was about as useful and friendly as a flaming bag of poo, found my way to Manhattan beach to a lovely café where I sat next to a very sweet couple around my age who I talked and laughed with and they even offered me a ride to my hotel . They were as normal as you can possibly get, minus that part where he was a flaming homosexual and she was apparently either unaware or the best transvestite I’ve ever seen. And then finally, the time had come. It was time to get on the plane across the pacific. I was feeling a mixture of nervousness, exhilaration, excitement, panic and just plain nausea. Holy. Shit.
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