August
10, 2018
Note: This should really be "Rocky Mountain Burger Sigh" to be less repetitive. However, all the links are in place and changing them will bring the connectivity crashing down on my head and possibly fry the entire Matrix.
Rosa started working on Anabelle’s Quinceanera favors while we all had breakfast. I offered to help as she started packing. It turned out the most helpful thing I could do was stay out of the way. Instead I continued my vast educational presence by introducing Anabelle to the greatest documentary about technical universities every made: Real Genius.
Rosa started working on Anabelle’s Quinceanera favors while we all had breakfast. I offered to help as she started packing. It turned out the most helpful thing I could do was stay out of the way. Instead I continued my vast educational presence by introducing Anabelle to the greatest documentary about technical universities every made: Real Genius.
Inheriting a complete
lack of patience from both sides of the family, Anabelle was bored with the
initial exposition but warmed to the film as it got more ridiculous.
My completely unsubtle
hints being ineffective, I flat out stated, “Let’s take Silvermist the Fabulous
Monkey on one final mountain drive to El Rancho.”
There is no time for
subtlety when I'm about to be separated from awesome, lean, wild meat products
with great sauces and sides by half a continent.
Our order was identical
to the original one the three of us had, except the official “owner” of the
wings shifted. There was nothing
different in my Moo-tasticly rare burger.
I explained to the
waiter that I’d been there three times on the trip, and would have loved to
sample their beer, but was always the one driving at unaccustomed high
altitudes. I asked about the bottles (called Growlers, apparently) they had on
display figuring I could have it that night. He said anything they had could be
canned (in a “Crowler” no less) cheaper than the bottles, and would travel
better. I was unaware of two things:
1) A Crowler is thirty-two
ounces.
2) A Crowler is not
resalable, like a Growler would be.
OK, for full honestly, I
was completely aware of both of those. However, what “thirty-two ounces” meant
in reality didn't register in my head, and there was no one else staying with
us who would have shared it. Therefore the tasting of the finally acquired massive can of saki
and blueberry infused YamaBrewski would have to wait until we got home.
Since our sharing plan
was practiced and expected, the lack of one wing in the order threw off our
calculations. We mentioned it to the
waiter and ended up having to recalculate in a good way when he brought several
extra ones!
The food, atmosphere and
Guardians of the Galaxy inspired
soundtrack made it another fantastic visit.
Near the end of our meal
someone mentioned dessert. I don’t think it was someone at our table. Hey, it
may not have been someone in the restaurant.
All I know is people related to me had their Dessert Sense start to tingle, and I was instructed to drive us all over to Yogurtland again.
All I know is people related to me had their Dessert Sense start to tingle, and I was instructed to drive us all over to Yogurtland again.
The source of all the
giant fancy tires we’d seen nearby the previous day was revealed. A garage
called “Grease Monkey” at the other end of the lot specialized in them. We entered the store just in time for the
“Flavor Tour” before making our own concoctions again.
Knowing the rental car
needed returning soon, we gassed it up and parked next to the vacuum hoses to
suck all the New Jerseyness out of it.
Additionally, we drove it through a car wash featuring enormous shammy
brushes. It was like being inside an infomercial explosion.
On the way to Walmart,
Anabelle gave us a lesson on when and where to pronounce the bottled drinking
substance as “Wooter.” We picked up some
packing supplies along with a few cases of wooter before returning home to
rest.
Digging out the Uno
cards much to our delight we found a bag of unopened zoo gummies to accompany
the game. There was a delay before the
massive leftover party for dinner, due to a last minute Abuelita Eyebrow
appointment. (There are far too many body part appointment places these days.)
Everyone else sampled
the return of the moist cake with white chocolate frosting for dessert. My “Leave me alone I’m on vacation” timer
rapidly dwindling, I substituted something else for my piece…
A bratwurst.
After both meals this
day, we definitely needed a post dinner walk.
Carrot the bunny stopped along the way to wish us a safe trip.
A giant Jerboa like we saw at Mount Falcon
hopped by as well. Uncle Roy asked if we
saw the Muskrat.
Oh yeah, that makes more
sense.
Anabelle and I had
another one on one basketball game. She
beat me 27 to 24. I feel like that was quite an accomplishment for me since:
A) My magic juggler
underarm hook shot only worked sporadically.
B) She didn't follow any
known rules of basketball, while I did.
C) I suck in general.
Most importantly,
somewhere around when the score was tied in the high teens I felt the need to
lie down on the side of the court for a minute and she stole my pillow (the
ball) and scored several times.
We strolled back past
one more gorgeous sunset and washed up to settle in.
The camera timer cha cha
was the order of the night, but we ended up aborting that mission and eventually
calmed down enough to watch a movie.
Since Titi had enjoyed Ghostbusters and Jumanji, we showed her the combination of the two: Pixels.
It was another success.
Our family had another
late night Uno session before a bit of reading and passing into dreams of Atlantic City being Disney World with the Scooby Gang visiting it. Again, the notes are sketchy, but given the
prolonged exposure to the thinner air, we may have all shared the same dream.
Click for Trip Index
2 comments:
Saki and Blueberry. Noooooooooo way.
It worked. Especially after the fiasco coming home. (Tune in next Monday!)
Thanx for reading and commenting.
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