Vacation: Memphis, Tennessee
January 25, 2007 - January 28, 2007
Lady Awesome attends a social psychology conference each year and I've been known to tag along if the city piques my interest. This year's SPSP conference was held in Memphis, Tennessee and as luck would have it, I just started drinking again.
Day One – January 25, 2007
3:47 p.m. - I just woke up from a nap where I used a neck pillow. Good story. I'm on the road to Memphis riding in the back seat of a PT Cruiser. I only feel about half as douchey as I thought I would. The drive from Atlanta to Memphis is just under seven hours. We're currently in Birmingham, Alabama, which appears to be the capital of pawnshops and trampolines. The Talladega Speedway is about as picturesque as Alabama gets. This is kind of a no-brainer, but I might as well go back to sleep.
5:49 p.m. - It's apparent that we're in Mississippi. Everyone drives trucks. The convenience store clerk's nametag read Justlean. And the men's bathroom had a dispenser for Osama Bin Laden condoms. We spent a good long while trying to figure out what that meant, and all we came up with was to get the hell out of Mississippi.
6:10 p.m. - I just sat on the porch swing at the birthplace of Elvis (Tupelo, Mississippi). I couldn't resist touching the asses of thousands before me. Tiny Elvis lived in a tiny house. Elvis' mom's house was so small the vacuum cleaner had a one inch cord. Elvis' mom's house was so small she lit the place with a firefly. Elvis' mom's house was so small the refrigerator was also a spare bedroom. Elvis' mom's house was so small the welcome mat just said, “wel.”
8:00 p.m. - Our hotel put us in a handicapped-accessible room, which means that the showerhead is as high as my chest. Equally disturbing is that the view from our room is a brick wall. This made John laugh. A lot. -- We ate dinner at a place called Rendezvous, which has "the best ribs" according to Rendezvous. I didn't eat any, but those claims are wrong. Unanimously wrong, so shut your mouth Memphis Chamber of Commerce. Dry rub equals not the best. Rendezvous only had two things on the menu for non-rib eaters like myself. I ate rice and beans for $8 that was not worth mentio--
11:43 p.m. (Memphis time) - Lady Awesome and I spent three hours at a bar. One of the top three bar experiences according to me, and the top bar experience according to Lady Awesome. I almost don't want to talk about it because it might cheapen the memory. Beale Street is a much, much, much smaller version of a street in New Orleans. The bars are crowded and full of obnoxious tourists. Also, there's always a lame blues band playing. Beale Street Tap Room, however, didn't have any of those gimmicks. And what we found inside was a warm bar with twenty beers on tap that locals actually patronize. We drank a lot, most of which was bought by some guy, Ron. He's a Hurricane Katrina 
refugee who lost his house and his wife and now he buys strangers multiple drinks at Beale Street Tap Room with his government money. Ron doesn't talk. At all. He also wears eyeglasses with no lenses. In fact, I would have told him, "Get the fuck away from me," had I not seen the $100 dollar bills in his wallet. I drank four drinks. Lady Awesome had three. Our bill was $17, so thank you, Ron. And sorry about your house and your wife.
12:55 a.m. - The fire alarm went off in our hotel. It was hilariously ineffective. A bunch of responsible guests gathered in the lobby, but Lady Awesome and I were drunk and already on our way to eat french fries at Denny's. That guy Ron who bought us drinks also walked in and out of Denny's. Then when we went back to our hotel, Ron was sitting at the lobby bar. He didn't see us at either location, which was probably a good thing beause we need some time apart. I hope Ron understands, but we need a break. It's not him, it's me.