underpants and sticky floors
Day two of Chet and Chris visiting from New York.
We took in a lake festival in the northern Atlanta suburbs, eating barbeque, drinking sweet tea, and snickering at the southern accents. For the first time in ages I was surrounded by “Yankee’s,” like me. We got to talk about the differences between northern and southern cooking, and for a change, someone held up my side of the “grits or no grits” argument. I’m against grits as a food group, in case you were wondering.
After spending quality time at the little lake festival, and a short rest period, we ventured back out to take in one of the best restaurants in Atlanta—Henry’s Louisiana Grill.
It was an hour wait for a table, and just about that long again before our food was brought out, but it was well worth the wait, as usual.
I love Henry’s—the atmosphere, the food, the friendly people, even the architecture of the ancient building…right down to the original wood floors. I do wish they would clean the floors a little better, though. I found myself in an unusual predicament while walking to our table in the back of the restaurant. My lightweight flip flops were sticking to the floor. And, I’ve walked across a sticky floor before. This was different. I was forced to grip the rubber sandals with my toes to keep from walking right out of them. With each step, I could feel the flip flops being ripped away from the floor as if they had been glued down. By the time we sat down, I was exhausted!
After our wonderful dinner, we headed back to the house to take advantage of the cool night air, and drink wine on the porch, where we discussed the proper term for one’s undergarments. The men were in agreement that “panties” and/or “underpants” were not manly enough to describe what men wear under their clothes. This is precisely why we will continue to refer to them in exactly those terms. We women like to live dangerously, after all.
Two bottles of wine later, we all retired to our respective rooms for a good night’s sleep. I’m thrilled that the usually hot and sticky Georgia climate has graciously agreed to give us a beautiful weekend with which to entertain our out of town guests. I would go so far as to say that it was just short of a perfect day, if only due to a flare up of an old back injury. And we have even more fun planned for tomorrow!
Until the next time…I’ll be sleeping with the windows open!