So, whoda thunk that a weekend of fun could turn on me so cruelly? My whole body aches from walking uphill, downhill, uphill in the rain, downhill in the rain, uphill carrying the kid in the rain, downhill carrying... you get the picture. Oy vay, I am so so so sore all over. Especially my calves. And you'd think w/all that exercise, that i'd at least maybe get to have a pass on eating this weekend. Nope. I indulged (but didn't overindulge) and when I got back, the scale laughed at me and said I gained 2.5 pounds. MOTHER TRUCKER.
Oh well. I suppose that's what happens when you visit a town that was built up on the strength of one major brewery. We visited the Anheuser Busch Brewery. After the tour, Owen's souvenir was a little stuffed Clydesdale, Ryan's was a T-Shirt ... and mine? Well, a six pack of beer. Which was a little foolish, seeing as how we had to drink it all in 36 hours since we couldn't take it on the plane. But we did it! And lucky me, I specifically pick two beers that had an 8% alcohol content.
Something odd I thought I'd share w/you. So as we were leaving the hospitality tent (God bless them - two 11oz beers - and they had a LOT more than just bud), this girl in front of us was feelin' pretty good. She walked out with her boyfriend, and there was an employee there, cleaning the floors. The floors were so shiny, they looked wet, and she made a comment to him about it, in a very flirtacious, tough-girl manner. And I heard him say, very drolly, "Oh yeah, I buff it." And then, I swear to you, I am not making this up, at the exact same time, they say (the girl is walking away at this time, and turns around to say this) "Jimmy Buffet."
What the hell. What two kinds of minds that so randomly meet would think of "Jimmy Buffet" as a response to "Buff It"? Is that a common response as "That's what she said!" is to "Liquor," "Poker," or anything with an -er at the end of it?
