The Return Trip

As promised, I'm back one more 'gain to holler at y'all 'bout my return trip this weekend. So here it goes...

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I was Eggsnecstatic

It took us a few days to pull it off, but we finally got out to breakfast on Sunday morning. I got the call moments after putting some Grands cinnamon rolls into the oven; I'd have to eat those quickly to be ready for breakfast.



If you haven't had Grands for breakfast, you really should. No, they're not good for you and yes, you will immediately get fat after eating them, but they're wicked good. My family has them on holidays and they're such a treat. Knowing that soon after the Turkey Trot I will be diving into a hot, tender cinnamon roll makes it just a little bit easier to get psyched up for 10 miles (because I'm a junkie and have to run it both directions) in the 34-degree rain.

Anyway, after my second round of Grands in a weekend, I got scooped up by Dom to go get some breakfast. We rolled just outside of the 'lo to The Original Pancake House where half of Williamsville had convened for Sunday brunch. Oops. Fortunately we had some rough riders with us who were able to mean mug and ice grill us to the front of the line in next to no time. Yeah, we got Wesside on them suburban bitches.

The payoff came when the waitress rolled up with our breakfasts. The ultimate goal of the weekend (and most weekends that involve Dom and Buffalo Dan) was to get eggsnextowe (eggs next to we). The first person form is eggsnextome (eggs next to me), second person is eggsnextothee and the plural as you've seen, is eggsnextowe. And you know there ain't no tellin' what the side effects could be. Next time I'm gon' have two om-e-lettes or three.

Speaking of the waitress, man was she dull. First of all, we had to pour our own water until she caught us, then she insisted on doing it for us lest she should be fired. Wanted your coffee refilled? You better be prepared to wait. Ordered the smoked ham with glazed eggs breakfast? She was blown away when you said you wanted your eggs "glazed", as if that idea never crossed her mind.

In the end, I was in eggsnecstacy. The eggs, ham and pancakes were mingling nicely with the cinnamon roll and I would soon be ready for my return trip.

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Hittin' the Highway

Shortly after 1:00, with the Bills sufficiently losing already, I packed up the Lesbaru Lesbacy with my bounty of goods and hit the road. I'll have to get into the bounty another time as it's more than I can cover here.

By 1:45 or so I was cruising carefree, eastward bound on the NY Thruway. I found the Bills game on 97 Rock and listened until I was out of range. The traffic was a little heavy, but it was a holiday weekend and I was sure it would thin out once I got away from the city.

At 3:45 (I know this because I wrote it down) traffic slowed from a comfortable 72 MPH to a less-than-comfortable 0 MPH. We then spent the better part of an hour in a clutch burning stop-and-go quagmire. At 3:50 we passed a dead deer and traffic sped up to 3rd gear range (20-ish MPH). "Wow, all that for just a deer" I thought to myself.

Nope, false alarm.

We continued the inchworm pace until 4:03 when we passed a young mother in a minivan pulled off to the side of the road. She must have had half a dozen small children in the car with her and from my perspective it looked like she was feverishly changing a diaper. Shit-tay. "Well, this must have been the problem. Here we go."

Wrong again.

At 4:12 we sped up to cruise control speed, only to slow to 26.2 MPH three minutes later. It was probably not exactly 26.2 MPH, but an old Nissan in the lane next to me had a 26.2 sticker on his bumper signifying his Marathon achievement. We were going roughly that speed, so I noted it in my notebook.

At 4:18 we passed a black BMZ 328i with obvious internal distress. The hood was opened, the owner was on his mobile telephone and traffic sped up a little. Nope, that's not the cause. By 4:23 we were back to a halt. It was here that I noted the bumper sticker on another neighboring car that read "Quagmire Accomplished" and had a picture of W on it. I thought it was funny that we were in a bit of a stalemate ourselves.

Ten minutes later we were moving again at a steady 3rd gear speed. I was hesitant to shift into 4th lest I should jinx us, but we seemed to be at least moving steadily.

At 4:51 we passed a 3-car pileup on the westbound side of the Thruway. Our side was in no way impeded by the wreck or ensuing police and emergency response frenzy. In fact, by the time we got there the cars had been pulled off the road and everyone seemed to be casually chatting on his/her mobile telephone. So the cause of my hour plus holdup was people's need to rubberneck. Damn I hate that.

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I rolled into the Pitt around 7:45PM, over an hour later than anticipated. The Patriots game was on at 8:00 so I swung by the old Shamrock for a few tonics and wings and watched the Pat's ease one by Philly. Around midnight I was unloading the car, feeding the cats, brushing my teeth and calling it a night.

Over and Out,
Old Coot