 Comedy: November 04, 2015 Issue [#7299] |
  Comedy
This week: Happy Trails, Detours, and Bad Steak Edited by: Ẃeβ࿚ẂỉԎḈĥ  
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Our bi-annual move was upon us. You’d think that after five years of facing them, we’d get much more efficient. |
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On the road, WL and I have many wonderful moments to share. In between, missed exits, wrong turns, “what happened to that hotel sign we saw fifteen miles, back?” and “Did you remember to pack the power cords for every electronic device we own?”
But, all that aside, after a long day of travel, we enjoy a nice clean hotel room with a pool and a jacuzzi. That helps us to stretch our muscles after hours upon hours on the road as well as relaxing the tight, tense muscles from trying to avoid accidents, and finding alternate routes when too many detours and construction work is going on down the highway.
We take our time, even if we need an extra night or two on the road. Safety and sanity is our motto!
The first hotel we stopped at was full. Yup, on a Saturday night, in a college town area, it appears that most hotels are already booked-up. We asked the check-in person at the desk, if there were any of their hotels down the road that had an opening. She told us not any of their hotels, but there was another good, brand name hotel, with a couple rooms left, only four miles down the road, and let us reserve the competitor’s room from her desk phone. People can be very nice to travelers. 
Well, folks, we were given an exit to take, and sent on our way. I must interject, it was not the hotel, that was four miles down the road, it was the exit, that was four miles down the road. It was nighttime, and there was construction taking up one of the travel lanes, that led us on a detour and into an airport.
These wonderful detours, place a small sign for the hotel, then you turn on a road and don’t see another sign until you’ve gone quite a ways down from the exit. At that time, I turned to look back from where we were spit out on the road, by the detour, and saw the hotel we needed across the northbound side of the highway.
“Are you sure you saw the hotel, WW?”
“Yes, I saw it. It’s sort of on a hill so I couldn’t miss it when I looked back. We need to turn around Web-Lock. They are saving us a room and we may be driving for hours more, if we don’t take this room! You are too tired to keep on diving, so
let’s turn around at the next exit. That way, the hotel will be on our right side, for easier entry.”
Web-Lock turned-off the next exit, came back on the northbound highway, and as we got closer, I showed him the exit to the hotel. He still couldn’t see it, nor could I for that matter, but I knew it was there, because I saw it when I looked back, after we took the original exit that supposedly brought us there. We saw another sign to the hotel, then saw the entrance to the airport. If you go straight, you end up in the airport parking area. If you take a right, you end up in a dark, deserted, area, with no signs of neon. He turned back around and said there’s no hotel here.
“But the sign pointed to this road, WL. If we go back out the way we came in, we will be heading northbound, not south, and will have passed the hotel and will have to repeat the whole taking of the southbound exit, detour, via swing back north, to get back to this place.”
He drove back to where the sign was posted, and it did, indeed say to take the desolate road we were on. So back we go, further into the dark depths of a long road. Finally, a few miles in, we saw the neon lights of the hotel’s name.
We checked in, thankful that the place existed. I did mention to the clerk that it was the longest four mile drive I can ever remember. She replied, “Yes, the detour thing. Well I didn’t tell you about it over the phone, because my directions might have confused you a little.” 
Might have confused me? Worth mentioning, wouldn’t you think? She could have said, there is a detour that will make you pass the hotel as you go southbound to the exit and you’ll have to return northbound to get into the hotel. I don’t think those directions would have been difficult to understand. No wonder there were rooms left, nobody could find the place!
Of course they had no hot tub, but we didn’t care by then. We just wanted a hot meal, a shower and some relaxation before bedtime.
We saw a restaurant within the airport parking area, because no way no how were we going to try to repeat the process of finding the exit back to the hotel. The desk clerk said it was a fine place to eat.
After all the last minute packing and stuffing the car, not to mention sitting all crooked due to the baggage that couldn’t fit anywhere else in the car that ended up at my feet, I felt that I deserved a good steak dinner.
WL is pretty consistent after a day on the road. He enjoys a huge burger and fries and lots of coffee. I need the steak and margarita. It’s just the way I am, folks.
My eyes bigger than my stomach, ordered the biggest, most expensive steak dish on the menu.
When the steak came, I started to slice into it. And kept hacking away with the saw of a knife to cut through the tendons and fat layer. It was rib-eye steak with the bone, in. Which is what I enjoy. I love the rib-part of the steak that surrounds the bone.
It’s my favorite part. But this time, it was inedible. The steak did not have a nice crusty outside, with a tender juicy inside, it had fat, and tendon through it, and thick, tough, fat surrounding the bone.
I don’t know about you, folks, but I have a fear about returning my plate of food back to the chef, to prepare properly. I figure, it’s an airport, traveling people all over, Chef may never have to deal with them again -- what keeps him from spitting or worse, into the complaining customer’s food? Integrity? Yeah, well you can hang on to that hope, I just cannot do it.
However, I do complain after I’ve finished my meal, all the edible parts that is, when the waitress comes back with the check, and asks how everything was.
“This steak was filled with fat, and tendon.” I tell her as I peel back layers upon my plate of the parts I would not eat. The cook, (Now I’m not even calling the person a “chef” anymore) did not render the fat outside the bone, nor did the steak get seared sufficiently on any of the sides.
She listened to my complaint and sent the manager over, who said she would talk to him about it.
Yeah, talk is cheap, but I ordered the most expensive steak dinner in the house!
I told her that it was not worth the price charged and customers should be warned that they will be getting a dull, yet fatty piece of meat for their money.
“WebWitch, I know you how much you love to watch Gordon Ramsey’s shows. You sound just like he does when he’s complaining to the cooks in the contest, about not rendering the fat properly and no crusty finish on the outside of the steak.”
“But it’s true, Web-lock! You saw the steak, it was awful! I make much better steaks using my cast-iron skillet!”
 Lesson learned, be sure you are at a real, honest to goodness steak house, if you are going to spend a few bucks on a specialty of the house steak.
Next day went smoothly, hotel was great, and an in-room jaccuzi, was included! Ahh, all of our irritations were beginning to disappear. That night, we ate some homemade lasagna, that was brought from my freezer, and still partially frozen when it hit the microwave. It was a good meal. Plus, we had the energy that night to drag-in the ice chest containing it. The first night, it was overnight bags and laptops.
On our next night, we stayed just fifteen miles north of the South Carolina, border. That meant lunch would be a taco salad at I-95’s, best kept secret, “South of the Border.” (You never sausage a place. ) 
However, we needed to grab a bite to eat that evening, near where we were spending the night. The clerk recommended a place. She said it was a great family-run restaurant, only four miles away. I smiled and thanked her. (Yeah, like I’m gonna fall for that four miles away thing, again! Fool me once ... )
WL and I did not want to leave the immediate frontage road of that hotel, to wander out into the abyss of highway, and be stuck driving for miles to the next exit to turn around and come back to the hotel, so we observed our options on that frontage road. There was a Chinese take-out, a Mexican restaurant, a pub-type, rib place and a Cracker Barrel.
I wasn’t in the mood for take-out, and I was going to have a Mexican, taco salad at a place we stop at twice a year, the next afternoon. I was already turned-off by the last steak-pub I was at, and didn’t want to give the rib-pub a chance to disappoint, so we decided to go for the down-home cookery -- Cracker Barrel.
I have to tell you, folks. The coffee was wonderful, the pot roast and mashes was tasty, tender, and fabulous comfort food. We loved it! The place rocked more than all its rocking chairs, on every Cracker Barrel porch, across the USA.
Happy that our food experience on the road was starting to improve, we had a comfortable experience, the night before we reached Florida.
The next morning, we slept in, skipped their breakfast buffet, because we were going to opt for lunch at SOB, and packed-up the room. We headed South, happy to be getting closer to our winter home. 
Before our eyes, there it stood! SOB! We pulled-in and parked in front of the restaurant we have come to know so well over the years.
“I’ll have a taco salad, please!”
By the time that meal ended, I had two people listening to why this particular taco salad was inferior to all the taco salads I have had there. The taco shell was cooked in oil that had not reached the optimum temperature for frying, and was soft, and greasy! I pulled at it, showing the ladies what the problem was. I could feel Gordon Ramsey, giving me the thumbsup, while nodding his head.
One of them asked if I’d like to have the cook make another shell for the salad.
“Ah, no, nope, no thank you.”
Remember, never send your food back for a chance at a vengeance spit, or worse ... you know what I’m saying.
Thankfully we made it home. When we took a moment to talk about our travels, Web-Lock and I agreed, that the best place we stopped to eat, the entire trip, was the Cracker Barrel, restaurant. Love that place, now, more than I ever had!
I hope your October was spooktacular, and your Halloween was fun. I know mine was! Have a wonderful November, enjoy Thanksgiving, and, let the holiday season begin!
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LJPC - the tortoise 
Hi WW! I must say I don't think it's fair that the store could only unauthorize the card. She deserved to be arrested. But I guess it's small compensation that she ended up not profiting from her crime... Till the next time, when she does it again and an unknowing sales rep gives her what she asks for. 
~ Laura
I know, it's maddening to hear this goes on. Sometimes, though, the things that aren't so funny, become funny when karma is working just at the right moment.  Thanks for the feedback, Laura!
willwilcox
WebWitch,
Thanks for the shoutout. You The WITCH!
You're quite welcome, Bill! And You The Man!
drjim
Perhaps they could actually HIRE Mrs. Keurig, come think about it. Word of mouth would be so fantastic - along with loss of merchandise during her...uh...um...'employment' that the store would have to close that particular chain location for another one. {PS - perhaps the neighborhood need be tougher. I wonder how the police feel about being given a trail that is 8 hours old say? Don't they EVER put trackers on these things?)
 This is a satire -- a comical take on a serious issue in our society, that allows this to happen without consequences. I think I saw it as a bad thing, with not just a good ending, but a humorous one, also. We can't cure all of the ills of those with these behavioral problems, but we can cheer and smile a bit when the good guys win. Thanks for your comment, WL. 
Quick-Quill 
I love this story. It shows now days you have to be smarter than the thief and the system! I hope Web-son gets a kudos from the manager and they share the story with the other employees about how to outsmart a thief.
I hope so, too! A raise would be good place to start.  But I wouldn't bet on it. 
Thanks, folks, for all your feedback. We editors really appreciate it!
See you next month,
WW
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