Well, at least that is what I am told. But my investigation into that theory would have to be put on hold, as this trip to Virginia was all about Bich.
So I hopped in the new ride and made the drive out on Saturday morning. Mapquest told me it was supposed to take 3 1/2 hours. I said mapquest be damned and did it in 2 1/2. Hitting 115 mph at one point obviously helped the cause. So at around 2:15PM, I arrived in Bichland. Got a quick pseudo tour of their very lovely apartment building and apartment and then we sat and shot the shit for a while.
Rich then embarked on his major home improvement project of hanging a dry erase calendar on his fridge. After looking up online where the nearest Home Depot was, we took a ride there and I introduced Rich to Home Depot and explained what exactly it and the merchandise inside was used for. After he got over his disgust at the idea of actually doing home improvement, we found the necessary items and were off. On the way back to the apt, Rich decided to introduce me to a local legend. There was a restaurant that he had heard about and people actually put stickers for it on their cars. With recommendations like that, it had to be good right? It reminded me a lot of Stewarts as they had the whole drive up, eat in your car thingy going with some inside seating also available. We went inside, sat down, and perused the menu. Our ever so charming (and by ever so charming, I mean bitchy) waitress came over and took our orders. I got a pork roll sandwich, a rarity down in the south I might add, and rich ordered a steak sandwich. A few minutes later, our plastic saran wrapped sandwiches were thrown our way (and yes, literally thrown, remember the bitch thing from a few sentences ago). I actually enjoyed my sandwich. Pork roll on a roll. Not too hard to screw up. Rich on the other hand, didn't have as much luck. They really shouldn't have called it a steak sandwich, a more appropriate name would have been a fat and ligament sandwich. On the bright side though, I got a cherry coke and they make it the old way by just dumping cherry juice in the coke. That rocked! So after that lovely experience, it was back to the apt to hang the board.
After completing the project and catching a horribly hacked and edited version of Dumb and Dumber on tv, it was time to start drinking. We went to a cool little bar/pizza place. They had a lot of beers on tap and it had a nice feel to it. The waitress was friendly and a very smart business woman, as she took her 2 best "assets" and shoved them together and pushed them up so that they were flowing out of her shirt. I am sure that works to get nice tips from a lot of guys, but not when a jew is at the table. So after a few beers, it was on to dinner.
Rich wanted to try a steak house that he had never tried before and heard was good. I should have known something was up after the lunch situation, but we went for it. It started out nice. Good salad bar, really good buffalo sauce, but then it was time for dinner. And like the aforementioned waitress, this place also had a sound business plan.....the customer cooks their own food. You know how much money you save by not paying cooks? That's right. You pick out your slab of meat that you want from the fridge, and you cook it. There was like a 50 foot long bed of charcoal in a room and you find some place and you add any spices that you want to it and slap your meat on the grill. In theory, this doesn't sound too bad, but when you are already 5 - 7 beers in to the night (i lost exact count, but around there) and when one person orders a thin sirloin which only takes a little while to cook and the other orders a thick t-bone which takes a while, and add extreme heat just standing by the grill, it doesn't make for fun. Oh, and there are just loaves of bread that you can butter and grill and such. Yeah, well again, not a great idea, as I would say that maybe 4 of the like 20 pieces we made weren't burnt. So after that agonizing ordeal, we sat down and ate. On the plus side, the meat was actually good quality stuff, so that redeemed it a little. And then it was off to a bar.
We then went to a spot in town where there were a few bars and ended up a sportsy kind of bar to watch the Yankee game, as luckily it was a west coast game. So we watched DeSalvo pitch a great game and get his first major league win. And then Brooke joined us after she got out of work for some more shit shooting and drinking. We sat and drank and talked the night away until the bouncer/closing time nazi was yelling at us to get out and literally took the beers out of our hands.
The next morning was filled with lots of sleeping and then a good breakfast at a little hole in the wall down the street from their apt. This place luckily saved any hope of me not bringing my own food next time and giving me a little faith in the areas food service industry. Although the service was pretty slow, but the omelet was great. Then it was off to make the drive back home to see my preggo and the boys, which by the way I did in 2 hours and 40 minutes.
Rich might blog about the weekend (and definitely craft better written story than I) and include anything that I forgot or just blatantly got wrong, but I figured I would let you know my experience of the weekend. I look forward to the next trip where i will hopefully not have to cook my own dinner.