September 2nd, 2004

I Will Not Defame New Orleans.

Nashshropshire-upon-Cumberland

Just back from an overnight to Snatchville, Tennessee.
Ben yesterday afternoon: “Hey, wanna go to Nashville tonight?”
Me: “What's up?”
Ben: “Gotta get a new license. Gonna meet ‘Zelda’ and friends for drinks.”
Me: “So you want to fly to Tennessee for one night for drinks?”
Ben: “Yah.”
Me: “Count me in.”
‘Zelda’ (so psuedonymed by her own request) picked us up from our short flight up there. “You wanna go get changed, or go straight to the bars?”

After prentending to deliberate over this perplexing conundrum: “Uh, let’s just go straight out, hmm?”

Very many cocktails were had at Over the Edge, the Alleycat and 3 Crow Bar, a jolly triumvirate of funky locals’ bars somewhere in East Nashville.

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‘Zelda’ was an inimitable hostess, taxiing and bed-letting for her hapless, short-term tenants. Perhaps soon we can repay the favor in New Orleans?

We got home this evening and went straight to Country Club for a post-airplane dip. It's the best way to wash dehydrated air and jet fuel off your body, to jump up and down in a pool and scream, à la Willy Wonka, “WEEEEEE grandpa, WHEEEEEEEEEEEE!”

Southern Decadence begins tomorrow.

We’re gonne be in sewwww much trouble.

Uh-oh.