0542 - ATL

There's no use waiting for a pause in the soon-to-seem-endless U.S. Presidential campaign, so we have decided to report to you on the state of affairs in Atlanta (airport code ATL). The Staff stayed in the Buckhead area, impressively wealthy, which may give a slightly skewed impression of the metroplex as a whole. For our Readers in Anguilla and the world at large, we wish to touch on all major areas of interest: shopping, female fashion, eating, and air quality. [Not to spoil the suspense, but the ratings are : high, high, high, and terrible.]

As for shopping, our Staff Steward was dizzy with delight. Buckhead's clogged highways are lined with monster malls flanked by giant shops of all sorts, offering dizzying supplies of computer stuff, hardware, gadgets, and all the treasures of consumer civilization generally unavailable in Anguilla. Prices are sensationally low (by AXA standards), and the attendants are polite, friendly, and helpful. [People in Anguilla are also famously friendly, but not when they are imprisoned in a store, where the customer is treated as wrong in principle and a nuisance.] But, Atlanta has one irritating practice, unknown to Anguilla. Many places sell stuff at a price quoted as net of rebate, and the rebate is only obtainable by sending in a tiny but extensive form too small to fill out, a label clipped from the box you may well have discarded, the store receipt, and the birth certificate of your first-born. At a guess, only 31.3% of all promised rebates are ever collected – it's a scam, all right.

As for female fashion, with the aid of a comely Atlanta dinner companion we observed carefully and came up with the critical mnemonic you need: it is WBNB. This stands for “Wear Black, No Butt”, and is the current watchword for all females of style. We had observed the same fashion note in Washington, DC, but only in the haunts of the young, not the heavy duty restaurants where the business of the Nation is done. As for men's fashion, forget about it – few ties and jackets, sloppy sport shirts, not at all up to female standard. Spruce up, men.

Always dedicated to the needs of our Readers, the OO sacrificed and tried to eat at the best restaurants. Many were wonderful, including Kyma: spectacular seafood, including an Arctic Char to die for, not to mention decor to match and many WBNB practitioners from the top of scale. Also notable was a feast at Aria's, where the headwaitress was WBNB, with a super-short miniskirt and legs that never stopped. Fine wine here. There is also the Buckhead Diner, a splendid spot where the elite meet to eat, and also the Brasserie du Cove, the full equal of the Tropicana in St. Martin where AXA's own elite are always found. We also praise the wine lists of many restaurants, where a dozen or more first class wines are offered by the glass. A real treat. Is there time to mention the Grotto? Great Italian food in a cellar you'd never find unless you knew it was there – but Atlantans do.

Now, about the air. Everybody drives everywhere; it's like Beverly Hills. Highways are clogged. The vehicles of choice are SUVs, either a Mercedes, a BMW, or a giant Cadillac called an Escalade for reasons we don't wish to know. The hotel where the Staff stayed ran two huge black Hummers to shuttle guests to the local delights. The result of driving all these monsters is constant traffic congestion and air that is just like LA at its worst. Anguillians, take a deep breath and rejoice! That's real air, friends, and it makes up for our local lack of malls.

Next time: Chelation [OO #543]

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