The “visitors” were at the compound for roughly fourteen hours this weekend. They arrived on Saturday, around 6 PM, and left the next day at 8 AM. They basically used our place as a bunkhouse, between Canada and their new/old home in North Carolina.
But they’ll be returning next weekend, for a longer stay. So, don’t touch that dial. I’ll have a full report, once all the data has been collected.
On Saturday night I went to bed at 10 PM. I was exhausted for some reason, and couldn’t take anymore slurping, smacking, wide-open coughing, booger-eating, wiener-flicking, or highbrow pontification. So, I told everyone goodnight, and climbed atop the platform.
And I awoke at 1:20 AM to absolute darkness. We always leave a lamp turned on in the living room, in case someone needs to get up in the middle of the night. You know, so they don’t go cascading down the stairs, and blow a hole in their neck. But Nossy (he’s always the last to bed), turned EVERYTHING off. Including our porch light.
I’m not exaggerating, my heart started racing because I thought I’d gone blind. There were no shadows, or the slightest variation in blackness levels. It was just solid dark, in every direction. It takes a while for the brain (especially my brain) to process what’s going on, and for a few terrifying seconds I thought I’d lost my sight.
But then I saw the numbers on Toney’s clock radio, and finally allowed myself to exhale.
I laid there wondering why someone would turn out every single light in their house, before going to bed. Is that common? Shouldn’t there be at least a nominal amount of illumination, for safety’s sake? I think I drifted off to sleep again agitated and mildly pissed at the whole advanced darkness situation. Dumbassery!
The oldest Secret had a birthday over the weekend, and got a new iPod Touch out of the deal. Which, I might add, is pretty darn cool… I’ve gotta have one, myself.
We also allowed him to pick a restaurant for dinner, and he said he wanted crab legs from Ret Lopster. Eninen were hinting that they wanted to join us, but they’re so completely unreliable, Toney told them no. If we’d waited on them, they might not have arrived until 10 PM and ruined the whole thing. ‘Cause that’s the way they roll.
Again, I ordered the New York strip steak. I’m not really a seafood kind of guy… But I’m telling you, every steak I’ve ever eaten at that megacorporation chain restaurant has been incredibly good. I don’t know what they do to them, or if it’s just superior cuts of meat. But they’re always excellent.
Toney and I also ordered Sam Adams drafts with dinner. But they didn’t serve us Sam Adams, they brought Blue Moon. Some people might not be able to tell the difference, but I can.
I thought about telling the waitress about it, but she seemed exceedingly timid and fragile. So I let it go. Blue Moon isn’t the worst beer in the world; I could live with it. I guess.
But after I finished my steak, and saw that almost an entire crustacean was still to be dismantled to my left, I called our server over and ordered another round of beers. “Sam Adams,” I enunciated. “We’d like two… Sam Adams.”
And she brought Blue Moon again! What the hell, man?? Were the kegs mixed up, or something?
I sat there and thought about it, and imagined the bartender discovering the problem later in the evening. And I saw him telling a co-worker (inside my head) that nobody had even noticed, that these pretentious assholes come in here ordering their fancy-pants beers, and don’t even know the difference. I imagined him laughing, and mocking me.
So I told our waitress about it, and she almost had a nervous breakdown. I should’ve just gone with the Blue Moon, and let the chips fall where they may. This girl was so apologetic and shattered, it made me feel horrible. I thought she was going to curl up in a ball on the floor.
After we left the restaurant, I noticed this shed behind the McDonald’s across the street. I wondered what was inside, and all four of us offered guesses while driving home. The Secrets’ ideas were predictably gory and disturbing. One of them said it was probably full of corpses: dead people who’d eaten tainted hamburger, or whatever.
And that’s today’s Question: what do you think McDonald’s keeps in the sheds behind their restaurants? Any ideas? Use the comments to tell us about it.
I’ll see you guys tomorrow.
Have a great day!