I spent my last days in America as American as possible. I went to McDonald's. I can't remember, honestly, the last time I ate there. As I chewed on what appeared to be a hamburger, but had the flavor and texture of a rubber tire, I was reminded why. I had a Coca-Cola Classic with that.
Afterwards, I headed to Roger's Exciting Tattle-Tale bar in Culver City, a safe-haven for the mid-life crisis. Karaoke all night long, and it was Kema's birthday. Large divorced women licked shots and kissed each other for balding men as white grandmas got low to the sounds of Snoop D-O-DOUBLE G. There I tasted my last drop of American beer: a 24-ounce Coors Light, which weighed heavy on my pocketbook. At the end of the night, we said farewell with one last song for the road.
I can`t think of a better, more American send off than Kid Rock. Finally, after much nail-biting and waiting, we got in line to board the plane to Beijing. We saw this cool guy. Look out underage male sex slaves!
I`ll miss you America.
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