Last week, I lost two sofas, a receiver, and a subwoofer from my mancave totaling $5800. Pretty Bride lost over 1000 sewing patterns, a bunch of fabric, and a lot of other stuff that I didn’t know lived in our basement. I spent a couple days ripping out walls and pulling up floors while vacillating between depression and anger. So, on Thursday, I decided to hop on a military cargo plane for Maine. Because I’d never been to Maine, and I felt like my heart needed the benefits eating lobster supposedly gives. I think Pretty Bride was glad to see me go. My attitude was in the shitter.
I filled a bag with clothes I won’t be able to wear in Atlanta for 2 more months and left. I read two Seth Godin books and some Hunter S. Thompson on the plane, so that I’d be inspired to be different, change the world, and get fucked up. I took notes on radical ways to market my firm while lamenting my affiliation with the military’s keeping me from dropping acid or taking red pills.
Friday night, I got stuck in the back of a rental car going to Applebee’s.
Me: Are you fucking kidding me? I fly 4 hours north, and you people want to go somewhere I can find in the Atlanta suburbs?
I was pissed but had a burger and a bunch of 22oz beers anyway. I watched an in-the-process-of-divorcing nurse try to sleep with every guy around while a couple of her friends repeatedly told her not to, because they’d done the same thing immediately after their divorces, and they regretted it. I encouraged her to follow her loins and ignore the wrinkled naysayers, but the roadblocks continued until I grew bored and left shortly after 4am.
Saturday, I asked the person in charge of the group if I could use the rented Chevy pickup truck to go across base to the gym. Then I drove it 30 miles to the coast. I figured I had 4 hours before the plane got back and they’d miss the truck. Except, when I arrived in Portland, they were still on the ground waiting on the birds to go away so that they could take off. I was scared for a few minutes but then got the “okay, we’re taking off…will be in the air for 3hrs” text message. Screw you, authority.
I parked on a cobblestone road and found a bar by the water; I plopped down between a man who resembled George Lucas and a woman who resembled Kathy Bates. A man in a Harvard sweatshirt walked up to Kathy Bates to ask if he’d met her the night before, and the two of them talked for over an hour. George Lucas is an engineer who lives in the mountains and travels to give expert testimony in lawsuits against the Department of Defense. We fell in love over lobster rolls and Shipyard Ale.
At 3:15pm, I realized I’d better get the hell back. I pocketed my parking ticket and pushed the Chevy to 90mph. I was 10 miles away when I got the “we’re on the ground” text. One long debrief later, and they were exiting the building as I pulled up to the curb. I am Ferris Bueller without a Sloane Peterson.
A group wanted to go to Cook’s for dinner, so I volunteered to drive them to Portland, where I was certain the restaurant was located, only once I’d pulled onto the street where George Lucas had told me to find a sports bar to see the Alabama game, I pulled Cook’s up on the Garmin and found that it was an hour in the opposite direction. I got out and let them drive off, asking that they return my GPS tomorrow. I considered feeling guilty but then remembered that the Tide needed me.
The Tide won, another truckload came to Portland to meet me, and 7 of them got dinner while I got more Shipyard Ale.
About 10pm, I decided that the conversation needed to shift to my balls. For the next two hours, every time a male walked by our table, two of the women in our group would stop him to ask if he would blow himself if physically able like “this guy” (pointing to me). I decided that they were all liars when each one said “no,” and I made sure the whole restaurant knew I thought they were liars. This was not well-received by management.
We played a game I invented called, “Guess the age of the Whores From Yesteryear.” Shortly after this game started, I found our table to be the only occupied one in our section of the restaurant. The server handed us checks without asking if we were ready to leave, and she added 18% for good measure.
She was thrilled when I ordered a peanut butter pie; she returned with one giant slice and eight forks. I used all eight. Someone in a “Hard Rock Cafe” sweatshirt called me obnoxious. I reminded her that she was wearing a “Hard Rock Cafe” sweatshirt at a seafood restaurant on Saturday night. She blushed and walked away.
I flew home on Sunday. Back to the 30′ dumpster in the driveway and 11 oscillating fans placed in front of corners and crannies to try and eradicate mildew and mold. And my mother-in-law. Which is why I filled a tall glass with ice and emptied the last of the Maker’s Mark and Woodford Reserve.
Cook’s: We missed it too when we went up to Old Orchard Beach and visited some of the places around there. We were on a boat trip around Casco Bay and while the boat stopped there, we took a bagged lunch instead. I think we might have had a bottle of wine too, but I’m not sure if it was Woodford Reserve. However, I know we didn’t have Maker’s Mark.
I was wondering how bad you all were hit with the floods. I’m really sorry to hear about everything, but glad you were able to get out of town for a bit…
.-= unfinishedrambler´s last blog ..Another edition of Tuesday Morning QB (on Monday) =-.
@unfinished rambler, Next time, I’m totally going to Cook’s! I can guarantee your bottle of wine was not Woodford Reserve, since WR is bourbon. Thanks for the sympathy!
Glad you finally got to Maine…although you are still invited to my parents’ house which is on a lake in the Belgrade Lakes area of Maine…
@jennifer trev, Thanks!
Well, Bueller, that’s quite the tale. I fucking hate Applebees. And the Outback. But whenever I go to visit my parents that’s where we go. Despite being down the street from some of the finest seafood places in the world.
I do have a soft spot for Hardees though. And the Waffle House. And Bojangles. Do they still have Bojangles?
.-= A Free Man´s last blog ..I have to sing about the book I read =-.
@freeman, What’s up with old people and liking chains? My parents and in-laws are the same way. Lame. I’ve seen Bojangles in Birmingham, but I don’t think Atlanta has them.
Sorry about your mancave, and Pretty Bride’s stuff. Patterns and fabric are expensive and difficult to replace.
Sounds like your weekend in Maine allowed you to release some steam. Maybe you need to return one more time… Hope things are put back together soon.
.-= Chris´s last blog ..Barbie Dream House And The Chocolate Room =-.
@Chris, I agree—at least one more time!
Sorry you and the man cave were affected by the floods. I live in Henry County so luckily all I got was a lot of rain. I was glued to the WSB and 11Alive during the storms so I know others weren’t so fortunate. Hey, maybe you’ll get a better man cave out of it, although I’m sure you would have rather gotten one an easier and cheaper way.
As for Applebee’s, you are so right. They are all over the suburbs. I’m about a mile from one myself.
.-= Staci at Just Bloggleds´s last blog ..What a Way to Start the Week =-.
@Staci, Thanks for visiting the Muskrat den! Glad you stayed dry in this debacle and that you live near an Applebee’s. I’m in the ‘hood and don’t know where I’d find such a fine establishment. I assumed outside of 285, and it sounds like I’m right!
Muskrat mucks mold, mildew, mess. Makes many miserable, maneuvers to Maine. Miraculously, Maine’s mischief managed. Mom-in-law means more mash, maybe.
@avatgardener, You have a gift with M’s.
.-= muskrat´s last blog ..the maine event =-.
Dude.
You’ve got to get out more.
.-= Coal Miner’s Granddaughter´s last blog ..Above =-.
@coal mine’s gd, You’re right. I tend to act an ass when I do, though.
Sorry to hear about your man cave. I hope you were able to have some of those great micro-brews in Portland.
.-= prefers her fantasy life´s last blog ..Meg’s Second Bar Fight =-.
@prefersfantasylife, Thanks, and I loved the microbrews! I need more, like right now.
That sucks about the flooding. and the Applebees.
.-= William´s last blog ..My Prom Date Jason Sehorn =-.
@William, Yes and Yes.
Sorry about you getting flooded out. You did, however, give me an idea of how to get rid of my hubby’s man cave…..
.-= Keyona´s last blog ..Because She Has The Rest Of Her Life To Dress Slutty =-.
@keyona, You wouldn’t dare!
I’d kill to have access to a military cargo plane right now.
Except one should probably not use “kill” and “military” in the same sentence on the ever searchable internet.
Fuck.
.-= Miss Britt´s last blog ..The Worst Day =-.
@miss britt, Who are you? See how I disassociate to protect myself? I wish you could, too. It’s amazing how helpful a couple days away can be, especially when I can do it for free.
Peanut butter pie is awesome.
@jennifer, Yes.
mmmm… peanut butter pie…
.-= Nooter´s last blog ..Operation: Human Takedown =-.
@nooter, Especially when not shared.
I would’ve stolen the truck and driven to the water where the lobster rolls and cold beer live too.
.-= Carolyn Online´s last blog ..You people are going to be so jealous of me you might just throw up a little. =-.
@carolyn online, I had no idea you were such a rebel!
Sorry about the mancave, but am glad the man that resides there is ok. Even if he did have to endure an Applebees.
.-= Secret Agent Mama´s last blog ..The Sound of Sisterhood =-.
@secret agent mama, Thanks! Glad the torrents didn’t reach north GA, where you stay at.
And in three weeks, you’re going to get away to Orlando for the weekend, too, right?
.-= Avitable´s last blog ..Halloween Party update! =-.
@avitable, I wish. *sniff*
Two things: I’m never glad to see you go, but yes, your attitude was in the shitter; and what the hell?? Am I not your Sloane Petersen?? That’s harsh, Muskrat.
@prettybride, You are! Only, not in highschool and with red hair. That way, I stay outta jail.
did you know i grew up in maine? (we moved to hendersonville the summer before my junior year) am glad that you were able to find a bit of solace in the old port that weekend. boo about your basement. sorry to hear it. if you ever head that way again, let me know and i’ll recommend some great places for you to visit. jason and i got married at the eastland park hotel – they have a great bar that has amazing views of the city!!
@emacgrass, I didn’t know that! I’ll certainly let you know the next time I head that way…I enjoyed it and would love to go back if I can find another C-130 headed that direction.
Shipyard Ale is a fine brew. Used to drink that all the time when I was still a New Englandah.
.-= acorn king´s last blog ..What’s Up Down-Under. =-.