Close Enough

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Lately I have been so busy day dreaming about playing in someone else’s sandbox thousands of miles away, that I forgot all about the perfectly fun kiddie pool in my own back yard. This weekend I decided to post up in that kiddie pool. Basically, I went on a little excursion through my own neck of the woods. I have been needing a weekend away, and since I have yet to make a road trip or fly out to one of my travel destinations for the year, I had to satisfy my craving for some highway relaxation.

Friday after work began my trip. I responsibly got my oil changed, ran home to grab some essentials, and bid adieu to Jack and Ace for the weekend. Before I hopped in my Xterra, I checked my mail. Having forgotten that I ordered some KCCO playing cards from theChive, I was pleasantly surprised that they had arrived just in time for the weekend. Man, the open road felt so cathartic… even though my destination was only a 45 minute coast across the basin.

Z made a list of bars he wanted to crash. He has only been living in Baton Rouge for a couple of weeks, so he was taking advantage of his drinking buddy tagging along for a night. The first bar we visited was The Cove. This place was insane, and I am not referring to the atmosphere. The bar ambiance itself was relaxing and comfortable. It was the plethora of beer and scotch selections that were breathtaking. We asked for a beer list. It was twenty pages long. TWENTY. I believe I remember Z stating his euphoric state several times while searching for his first brew. I am certain that I am the worlds worst decision maker, so the state I was in leaned more to the panic side. I wasn’t sure we would make it to bar number two on the list. Being the clever person I am, and instead of just picking a beer in the dark like throwing a dart at a map, I finally chose beer number 413 (Friday’s date). Original, I know. Named Cease and Desist, it was a Russian Imperial Stout from the Netherlands and twelve bucks a pop. This beer was practically black in color. Let’s just say all other beer I drank for the rest of the night tasted like sparkling spring water in comparison.

After becoming restless and tired of searching through the myriad of beer selections, we hopped to a few other bars, played a little pool, and headed in for the night. But, there was one thing I requested to have even more so than sleep (which was rising on my list of demands). Jack In The Box. If you read my posts regularly, you may know that I have a lovely habit of forgetting to eat dinner on the weekends. This night was no different, so by 1:30 am I was in fiend mode. Food was the high I needed, and Jack In The Box was my drug of choice. I inhaled my belated supper in an embarrassing fashion as usual, resulting in serious remorse and shame of how I had behaved come dawn.

In the morning I jumped on the road again off to Booger’s in Larose. Of course, I had to make a pit stop at Starbucks for a coffee equivalent to the size of my noggin… which was throbbing a bit. I sat with a gaze of desperation behind a long string of cars all waiting for their pick-me-ups. Oh Starbucks, the things I am willing to endure for you. I remember passing Blue Bayou water park on the drive. I have never been. Add to list. By the time I showed up, the caffeine from my venti vanilla latte was coursing through my body like the water rushing through those massive water slides I’d passed an hour before.

Booger and I scoured the bayou for some decent sized (and priced) crabs and crawfish to boil. That night consisted of a few activities. They were as follows (I have resorted to listing because it is Monday… and I am dealing with a sunburn… I am not sure the sunburn has anything to do with anything).

• Learned to locate and remove the reproductive organs of male and female crabs
• Ate mounds of crab meat and crawfish.
• Cut my finger on the crabs because I have no dexterity or coordination while peeling them.
• Played pool.
• Side lined a checkers match.
• Made a lot of inappropriate jokes about a hole I was using in the fence to ash cigarettes through (My ash hole – you get the picture – I am not proud)

Finally, Sunday morning rolled around. My incredible and thoughtful friend woke me up with a bouquet of freshly picked flowers from her impeccable yard accompanied by coffee and cinnamon rolls. We then ventured out on the high seas. Okay, not quite the high seas, although it sure felt like it. The wind was brutal, taking no leniency on any of us four (Booger, me , her boyfriend, and dog). We finally scoped out a place to tie off and attempt some fishing. Unsuccessful would be an understatement about the outcome of our fishing efforts.Soon all of us became famished, and with no fish to lug home and fry, we settled for burgers and malts at a roadside food stand. Sparing the fish, we successfully satisfied our bellies nonetheless. I am certainly glad I took some time to step away from my grandiose fixation planning for the future, and stopped to enjoy my back yard. Oh, and I suppose seeing my best friends was alright.