Currently I'm sitting in the O'Hare airport enjoying a glorious (well deserved, in my opinion) margarita. I've been ridiculously busy on an adventure for the past few days, and did not have time to pop in like I thought I would.
Saturday night, my friend wanted to take me to down-home South Carolina bar, and show me some southern hospitality. We went to her favorite place, Jakes, which is in the Four Points neighborhood of Columbia. Usually this neighborhood is where all of the undergraduates hang out, while The Vista is more for graduate students and young professionals, but Jake's is an acception to that rule.
I borrowed a little skater dress of hers, threw on some sandals, and we headed out for a night on the town.
As soon as we got there, and convinced the doorman that my Indiana license is indeed real, we grabbed some bevs. Since we were in the Deep South, I figured I should go ahead and have a beer, lest they see that I'm a Yankee.
I asked the bartender what a good local beer was, as they had a good selection of beers on tap. I hear a chuckle from next to me, and the man beside me recommended a bud light.
Whoops. I guess my Yankee just couldn't be covered up.
I settled for a Purple Haze, from California, and fell in love. It's flavorful, but light enough to not weigh you down. Definitely a brew I'll be looking for when I get home.
We had planned on hopping over to the vista after a drink or two, but ended up chatting with some lovely southern gentlemen (somehow I forgot how polite they all are) and ran into some friends of here, and before we knew it the bartenders were hollering (yes, I said that) last call. But not before I snagged a shot of Jack. After all, who knows how long it'll be before I'm back in the south?
We left giggling and had full intentions of swiging by Cookout. Cookout is apparently a beautiful fast food restaurant that serves divine milkshakes and an outrageous amount of food. As in you can get chicken nuggets and corn dogs as sides to your burger. Unfortunately, everyone and their brother had the same idea as us, so we bailed and agreed to make up for it by going to Waffle House before I left.
We snuggled up at home with popcorn instead. Good life choice.
As promised, we got up and I sadly packed my things, and we headed to the Waffle House up the street. Seriously, they're everywhere.
I forgot how much I loved Waffle House.
We chatteds bout my visit and everything that will hopefully be happening in the next few months. Then tragically we had to make our way to the airport.
We said our goodbyes with promises to visit soon, and I hopped on the plane. 4 hours later I was landing in Little Rock, Arkansas.
But that's a story for tomorrow.
Happy Tuesday, y'all! (I had to say that just once)