As it happened, since my ear buds had gone missing and I didn't feel like lugging my Koss cans along, I had to buy replacement earpieces at the airport, and a brief look at what Brookstone convinced me I didn't want to buy any kind of headphones or earbuds from them. Wound up buying a set of Sony earbuds and a bottle of overpriced Diet Coke from the Hudson News down the hall, and that sufficed. Preboarded the flight to BWI, which turned out to be full, and dozed uncomfortably for about an hour or so while reading Sarah Hoyt's Through Fire. Got my suitcase fairly promptly, pinged Uber, and somehow missed my driver the first time he went by. We compared notes on driving in Baltimore versus driving in Las Vegas, and I tipped him $5 because life is hard.
Got stuff up to the room; Paul was absent; according to Mark, he'd fallen behind the laundry curve and would be along Saturday. We ate dinner at Five Guys - just a bacon cheeseburger and Diet Coke, no fries - and went back to the hotel via the third floor bridge from the Galleria, except we couldn't get in because there was a fire. That got settled in about half an hour, and we went back inside (via the Galleria, which was a useless collection of high-fashion stores) and back to the room. Presently I got pinged by cipherpunk, who inquired as to my dinner plans; I agreed to come along and have a nosh, maybe a salad or something. I wound up at Uno with him getting wings because the pseudo-Irish collision cuisine at Tir Na Nog did not appeal. We had a long conversation over dinner about how the world was going to shit and then went back to the hotel, where I changed my bandages, set up the nose hose, and babbled at Mark while doing so. Fortunately I fell asleep very quickly and slept most excellently.