Props to The Simpsons for the title. I figured since I spent the weekend in Springfield, it was apropos.
Growing up, my sister L and I always celebrated our birthdays together. Our birthdays are two days apart (she's a year younger), and since we were a large family, I'm sure the tradition started out having as much to do with wanting to economize as with L and I being close. Since the birthday child got to pick their favorite dish for their birthday dinner (and of course, the requisite cake and ice cream), it was probably easier to get L and I to agree on birthday dinner (as I recall, we always both chose lasagna) than it was to afford two birthday dinners, cake and ice cream in the space of one week.
Well, about a week and a half ago, my brother-in-law hatched the idea to have me come up to the mid-way point between us and celebrate the birthdays (which were last Sunday, and this past Tuesday). He had gotten the weekend off work, and L didn't know. So, he was going to concoct a story that would have them going to Springfield for some reason, without mentioning me, and have me showing up be a surprise. I suggested that our brother T might want to come up too, and we started planning. We set a meeting place and time, and I made hotel reservations on Hotwire. (As it turns out, Hotwire saved me only about $4 per room over the hotel's normal rates).
The drive up was uneventful, and in a bit of luck, even though T and I were running about an hour behind, so were D & L, so we actually got to the Bass Pro Shop first (D's excuse being that he wanted to look at boats). Regretting our decision not to be more specific about meeting places (the paintball section was mentioned, but never cemented as the place to meet), T and I started wandering the store, hoping to come up behind them and call L on her cel. As it turns out, we were heading toward the main entrance when I spotted D&L. It took L a few seconds to process the image, and she just said "No. Way." Not quite perfect, but better than I figured we'd do.
After we wandered around Bass Pro for a while (for a guy who hates fishing, I sure like boats), we decided to check in at the hotel. After asking the cute clerk where the fun places in Springfield are, we cleaned up and went out to dinner. The place we chose (a Lone Star steakhouse) was a bit crowded, so we had to wait. This young fellow with some Chinese characters tattooed on his neck was bitching at his wife (I think we determined they were married) about the wait, and how they wouldn't be waiting if she hadn't decided she was hungry, and didn't choose that place, and just on and on. It turned out they were seated near us, and we allllllmost told our waitress that it was the guy's birthday, just to screw with his head a little bit and maybe jerk him out of the jackass mood he was in (no, I haven't successfully figured out why we gave a rat's ass...it just seemed important to rescue his wife from his bad attitude). We didn't, but after they'd left, we let the waitress in on why we were giggling when she passed by. I think she'd already decided we were nuts when T followed her "Hi, I'm ____, I'll be your waitress tonight" with "Hi, I'm T, and this is C, L and D" and I broke in with, "And he'll be your idiot tonight."
Based on the hotel clerk and our waitress, Cowboys 2000 was the most fun you can have with everyone remaining clothed. It was big, and marginally a Country/Western club, but when we walked in, the Black-eyed Peas' "My Humps" was playing. Oh, and the entire back 1/3 of the place is a bull-ring, and they had live bull-riding Saturday night. When we go out in and around my hometown, D knows a lot of people, so he's usually making the rounds, catching up with friends, and he and L will occasionally dance. T is more often to be found in C&W bars, and apparently gets his dance on fairly easily. Me, I just drink, hoping to get drunk enough to dance, which usually leads to a hangover I don't deserve. Well, being that we were in a strange town, D didn't have much to do, and since he's down a lung (surgically removed last year to remove cancer), the way he and L generally dance would probably have exhausted him (I'm sure there's a name for the style, but it's kinda a frenetic swing style, very fast, very dangerous-looking). T didn't seem to see anyone he wanted to approach to dance with, and I was too busy trying to figure out if taking a shot from the waitress's navel would be possible. So, we ended up drinking and watching, which mostly meant commenting on the weight or dance skills of some of the girls on the dance floor, but did get a bit interesting when they couldn't get the last bull of the night out of the ring and back to the pen.
Much like the old dude at the races, I was inclined to go easier on the girls. Yes, some of them were quite large, and made some questionable fashion choices (in particular, the flouncy pleated white miniskirt was probably a bad choice for its wearer), but I gotta figure they were having way more fun than we were. I did have a good time, but drinking and people-watching is my idea of a good time sometimes. The big thing stopping me (because I did get drunk enough) was not knowing which girls were there as singles (or in a pack of other girls) and which were there with men that might not appreciate my attention to their girl. Yeah, I can be a big puss sometimes.
Sleeping until 10:00 AM Sunday was great. I think it's the longest night's sleep on the CPAP I've gotten, and according to T, I don't seem to snore anymore. Woo-hoo!
OH! and for those who were curious...going through Oklahoma, we spotted a few restaurants of the chain that sponsored the "chicken" cars that T and I were fans of at the races. It's Charlie's Chicken and BBQ, and seems to be mostly an Oklahoma chain (as I recall, the drivers were Okies) with a handful of franchises in AR, KS, and MO. Ironically enough, the two MO locations are both in Springfield.
Wonder if they serve primarily flatmeats?
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