The Literary Dreamer

We got off the plane at around 9 p.m. last night after what felt like the longest flight ever and took a shuttle straight to our hotel. The shuttle driver talked a lot about his cats and his girlfriend (who apparently snores) and told some really terrible jokes. When we got to the hotel we shared an elevator up to our floor with Steven Tyler (and I mean the actual Steven Tyler, not a doppelganger.) I didn’t realize it was him until he said something to my dad about how to work the elevator and then turned around enough so that I could see his face. I think it’s safe to say that taking the elevator up to the twelfth floor with my family and Steven Tyler was one of the most awkward experiences of my life. My entire family knew it was him but we didn’t want to say anything so we basically looked everywhere but at him to avoid making eye contact. I saw him again around town today and I am sure he is probably doing drugs in his hotel room two floors below us right now. On another note, this morning we went to a breakfast buffet at a beachfront restaurant called Duke’s and it was amazing. We spent most of the day at the beach and I also managed to find time to write about two paragraphs of the novel from my hotel balcony (I guess a change of scenery was all I needed?) Tomorrow we’re visiting Pearl Harbor. Can I just not go back to real life, like ever? I much prefer living in a hotel with the lead singer of Aerosmith and eating pina colada bread pudding for breakfast and not going to work