I don't know the term, but there better be some cheese on those sumbitches.
Yes, an anecdote. I know a lot of people come to the blog solely to read BK’s comments, so I thought it was probably time for a BK anecdote. I think he’ll probably be thankful (along with other involved parties) that I’m skipping the Hooters ancedote, and going straight to this one. This great story took place in the lovely town of Jackson, TN. I was in Tennessee for the first time to attend the wedding of the illustrious JCK and the illuminous Mrs. JCK. I’d put her initials, but she has like 4 middle names, and I can’t remember the order. So, anyway, welcome to Jackson, snitches.
It was a pretty classic weekend all around, amazing time, best wedding ever, but the heart of the anecdote occurs after the wedding, and after the reception. And after the party, it’s the hotel lobby…stuff like that. So, after the reception a group of us piled into a stretch limo and headed to a local bar. Myself, BK, and a couple other dignitaries were still wearing our tuxes (obviously), so we roll into the bar, and keep in mind we’d been drinking at the reception for 4? hours?…and we get a few looks, but whatever. It’s JCK’s wedding.
Couple notes from the first stop before I get to the real meat of the story. First of all JCK’s sister completely dominated the entire place. Bar, dance floor, she was in control of it all. I wouldn’t be surprised if I went back to the bar, and they were building a statue of her outside. Anyway, that was amazing. And, not only that, there was a local girl of well below average appearance who seemed to take a shine to me. Now, I was not sober in the least. We walked in, BK handed me a Vodka/soda splash…and I said I didn’t drink Vodka. BK’s repsonse? “You do now.”
So anyway, this chick is talking to me, and I’m not really listening. She tries to buy me a drink, and I get confused, and think I’m supposed to buy her a drink. Well this pisses her off, and she goes away for a minute. Then, she’s back. And she’s talking again. She said she likes me, and I shouldnt care what my friends think. I shouldn’t care what they think about what? Then she grabs my face, and kisses me. Oh, that. Well, I was a little concerned what people may think. Glazing over a few details she left like an hour later with a 50 yr old. Pretty good score for that guy.
As the night is winding towards last call at the bar, there is a consensus that we want to go to Steak N’ Shake. Why? Well, because when you are near a Steak N’ Shake…you go. That’s how it works. Somehow, out of nowhere, D-Hatch had arrived on the scene. This is JCK’s father in law. So, D-Hatch gets wind of this idea, and sensing a disaster he re-routes the limo, and instead of going back to the hotel…we’re at Steak N’ Shake. Score. Now D-Hatch wanted to go in alone, and just get a bunch of food. I don’t think so, I’m coming in. So I supervise the order, and we leave with a haul of food. I’m passing out burgers and fries like a GD soup kitchen employee. I don’t remember what I had to eat in total, but I know I was washing it down with a chocolate shake. I know BK had a shake as well, and this is important to the rest of the story.
So, we get back to the hotel, and everyone piles in, and this includes the young lady that BK had brought to the wedding. Somehow BK and I are just kind of loitering outside. He may have been inexplicably finishing a cigar? Maybe he’ll fill us in. Anyway, we’re the only people out there, still in our tuxedos. This kid appears out of nowhere. His first question, “Were you at the wedding?” No, we’re mannequins at Men’s Wearhouse…we just got off duty.
We kind of overlook this question, and the kid (he’s like 20something, but looked 12) comes over and introduces himself. I shake his hand, but BK has his shake in one hand, and the cigar? in the other…so he gives him some knucks. The kid get’s all pissed that BK didn’t, “Shake his hand like a man.” BK says, “I’m drinking my shake.” Then the kid tries to shake his hand again, and this time BK just laughs.
Sometime after the kid walked away in disbelief I think I spotted a Waffle House sign down the road. I mention it, BK says something like, “You won’t go to Waffle House.” And, we’re walking to Waffle House. Now it wasn’t far, but it was down a divided 4 lane highway. We’re walking down the middle in the median or whatever. There’s no traffic at all…it’s like 3 AM, but BK did manage to airmail the last of his shake over two lanes of traffic, and into the ditch on the other side of the road. Not really important, but a nice touch.
We made it to Waffle House, and let me tell you, you haven’t gotten a look until you walk into a Waffle House in Jackson, TN at three in the morning wearing tuxedos. It was amazing. Somehow we managed to put away another meal. Keep in mind we had left Steak N’ Shake approximately 30 minutes prior. And, believe it or not, it was delicious. Unfortunately, around this time…we were realizing we had to walk back to the hotel. As fate would have it, the young lady that BK brought to the wedding happened to call. I believe she asked something along the lines of “Where the hell are you?” To which, BK gave the truthful answer…Waffle House. There was a pause in the conversation where I’m sure BK heard some interesting stuff, but his reply made the night. What did he say, “Come pick us up.”
And, there it is. The only way this story gets better is if the Swan was there.
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