Looking For Food In All the Wrong Places

Euphoria was yesterday.

Today, the last drips of adrenaline have left the body and a different kind of rush begins.  The family rush kindles other feelings of love and affection than friends provide.  Usually, but not always, the family doesn't leave your left arm immobile and a hand that looks like it got put through the roast beef slicer at Arby's.  Battle wounds from this weekend will fade eventually, but memories will stay thanks to some talented folks taking pictures of the event.

A last thank you to those who's work in welcoming our band of professionals turned degenerates with the drop of an Al-sized SoCo shot to your hometown.  It was a pleasure. Perhaps if the stars line up again, this time I'll find a roomie downtown despite the VERY comfortable bed and accomodations at the Haywood Hampton Inn.  Great service besides housekeeping barging in a few times while someone who sleeps threadless was watching Sportscenter. 

You can go grab the virtual eye bleach now.

Going out last night for a quick dinner at a local chain restaurant, I become more and more disfranchised with these places, especially for the robotic corporate approved playbook "customer service" these servers present.  Seeing the head chef come out for a few words after a Top 5 meal of all-time for me, or the lovely bartendress in a dank basement-like one row bar screams of the originality I enjoy so much while plunking down a few coins for drinks or eats.  These suburban hell-holes of bagged food and canned responses to your attempts at conversation (yes, my kids are cute, would you like to see what happens when I take their toys away pretty boy?) are squeezing out the local places that were a special treat while growing up.

Now, going out to eat is an ends to a means for a rushed family of four on some days with two parents who have full-time jobs trying to work-out, get homework done, go to swimming class, and if there's time maybe do some laundry before it becomes the new Mount McKinley of the United States.   Sadly, that means limping into the Olive Garden/McDonald's/Arby's whatever closest to get food and get home to sleep.  It's not everyday of course, as days of leisure are there for the kids to hop on pop and lean back for a beer and some poker but during the rush hour of family activities one would hope there was a better alternative to food than two McNugget happy meals to go.