I hope everyone had a wonderful, blessed holiday weekend. I had such a good time being away from the plantation doing a whole lot of nothing but eating and chilling, and some catching up with my girls from back home who came through on Friday night before we left for Philly. But I did manage to learn a few things during my travels with Hunny...
-Road trips with men are different:
We went from Maryland to Philly--a straight shot up I-95 and still managed to get lost. I told Hunny I'd drive through Delaware so we didn't end up going across the Delaware Memorial Bridge and onto the Jersey Turnpike, but he said his military navigation skills were on point so I should trust him. (This is always his standard reasoning, lol!) *Ahem*. *Cough*. Umm, apparently he didn't cover sign reading skills in his training, cuz we ended up crossing the bridge and taking some crazy azz alternate route across the gottdamned Jersey Turnplike. Two hours later, I saw the same group of 5 cows for the third time, so I took over and got us there with zero issues.
-Gas Station Restrooms are for the hardcore only:
I've never been one for public restrooms, but I can deal with the ones at the big rest areas on the highways because at least I know they get cleaned a few times a day. But on our way, somehwere between northern Maryland's Chesapeake House and the *only* rest area on the Delaware Turnpike, I really had to go. So we get off at an exit, expecting to find one of those 24-hour type gas stations with the lil mini mart and a decently clean restroom inside. I don't know where the hell we were, but it must have been skipped over by time because we drove a good 4 miles and the best we could find was this lil azz po-dunk gas station (yall, the pumps don't even take credit cards) with the old grizzly looking attendant who just looked like he may have burned some crosses on the black folks' yard back in his day. He gave me the key to the restroom, which was outside in the back of the building. I opened the door and lil black bugs came flying out and it smelled like old gym socks and shit to be blunt. I've never seen such crazy looking mildew. I cringed, handled my biz, and ran like a bat out of hell. My appreciation for real rest areas is now immeasurable.
-When the baby pics come out, just leave:
Of course every cookout with reunion becomes some type of "Remember when you did ____?? I got pics to prove it!" family reunion. I should have considered this before offering to bring Hunny to visit these people. Really. Should. Have. Within a half hour of arriving at my cousin's house, the pictures of me in mid-upchuck standing in line for Space.Mountain at Dis.ney World and other unpleasantess were being passed around the table like a basket of chicken at a church picnic. Ahh yes, laughs at my expense. I was just about ready to crawl into a hole.
-Make sure the cookout can cook:
When you get invited to a BBQ, you assume that there will be some cooking going on right? Well if there's no grill, there's no cooking, LMAO! We got to another cousin's house for what she called "The biggest Memorial Day Cookout EVAH" on her evite. We got there, and yep...there were a bunch of people, but no food. There was no food, cuz THERE. WAS. NO. GRILL. Ol' girl had to send someone to Wal-Mart to pick up a charcoal gril, cuz apparently in their preparations, they'd forgotten all about it. Thank God the potato and pasta salads were done, cuz we were all ready to throw down. But potato salad just aint right without the burgers and fries. Next time we get an invite, we'll make sure there's a grill at the cookout location.
Lessons to live by!
-Road trips with men are different:
We went from Maryland to Philly--a straight shot up I-95 and still managed to get lost. I told Hunny I'd drive through Delaware so we didn't end up going across the Delaware Memorial Bridge and onto the Jersey Turnpike, but he said his military navigation skills were on point so I should trust him. (This is always his standard reasoning, lol!) *Ahem*. *Cough*. Umm, apparently he didn't cover sign reading skills in his training, cuz we ended up crossing the bridge and taking some crazy azz alternate route across the gottdamned Jersey Turnplike. Two hours later, I saw the same group of 5 cows for the third time, so I took over and got us there with zero issues.
-Gas Station Restrooms are for the hardcore only:
I've never been one for public restrooms, but I can deal with the ones at the big rest areas on the highways because at least I know they get cleaned a few times a day. But on our way, somehwere between northern Maryland's Chesapeake House and the *only* rest area on the Delaware Turnpike, I really had to go. So we get off at an exit, expecting to find one of those 24-hour type gas stations with the lil mini mart and a decently clean restroom inside. I don't know where the hell we were, but it must have been skipped over by time because we drove a good 4 miles and the best we could find was this lil azz po-dunk gas station (yall, the pumps don't even take credit cards) with the old grizzly looking attendant who just looked like he may have burned some crosses on the black folks' yard back in his day. He gave me the key to the restroom, which was outside in the back of the building. I opened the door and lil black bugs came flying out and it smelled like old gym socks and shit to be blunt. I've never seen such crazy looking mildew. I cringed, handled my biz, and ran like a bat out of hell. My appreciation for real rest areas is now immeasurable.
-When the baby pics come out, just leave:
Of course every cookout with reunion becomes some type of "Remember when you did ____?? I got pics to prove it!" family reunion. I should have considered this before offering to bring Hunny to visit these people. Really. Should. Have. Within a half hour of arriving at my cousin's house, the pictures of me in mid-upchuck standing in line for Space.Mountain at Dis.ney World and other unpleasantess were being passed around the table like a basket of chicken at a church picnic. Ahh yes, laughs at my expense. I was just about ready to crawl into a hole.
-Make sure the cookout can cook:
When you get invited to a BBQ, you assume that there will be some cooking going on right? Well if there's no grill, there's no cooking, LMAO! We got to another cousin's house for what she called "The biggest Memorial Day Cookout EVAH" on her evite. We got there, and yep...there were a bunch of people, but no food. There was no food, cuz THERE. WAS. NO. GRILL. Ol' girl had to send someone to Wal-Mart to pick up a charcoal gril, cuz apparently in their preparations, they'd forgotten all about it. Thank God the potato and pasta salads were done, cuz we were all ready to throw down. But potato salad just aint right without the burgers and fries. Next time we get an invite, we'll make sure there's a grill at the cookout location.
Lessons to live by!
5 Comments:
no grill?!?!? is that even legal at a cookout? mad about it. why are the "must have key to use this bathroom" always the most disgusting? i was forced to stop at one in WV and i was like YOU SHOULD PAY SOMEONE TO COME CLEAN THIS! MAYBE IF YOU LEAVE IT UNLOCKED, THEY WILL.
Glad to hear you had a good time :-)
Fries - Made on the grill (or at a picnic)?? Sounds good...
At least you guys had fun!:) And, a man will get lost in his own BACKYARD won't he!? (lol) You just have to be patient with him, God bless him, he can't help it! (lol)
LMAO seems like u and 1969 had cookout issues!
what was your cousin expecting...Jesus to show up with a grill and food for the biggest Memorial Day Cookout EVAH?
there's got to be more to that story
like an alternate personality sent out the cookout invite
or she has an evil twin planning parties behind her back.
or she hit her head.
don't hold back--tell us the truth.
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