Oh. I forgot. On the way north to Shapleigh, Maine (home of EGE and other mysterious creatures), I turned off the I-95 and took the smaller US1 up the coast. I had a lot of time and figured I wanted to see something other than a boring interstate highway.
What I did see were some people on some beaches.
Evidently, these people hadn't listened to the weather report and seemed to possess no ability to turn their heads 180 degrees and look at the horizon, in the direction I am looking in the pic. Huge, and I do mean huge, storm clouds rolled in. I got in my car and rolled out of there before the panicked exodus began.
When the rain started I had to stop and wait for 20 minutes. I couldn't even see the road, because it rained so hard. Around me, throughout the small touristy coastal communities, people in bathing clothes scrambled for shelter and tried to keep towels and toys and boom boxes and whatever they were carrying dry. Not likely that happened.
So. Back to Shapleigh. We passed a church with a sign that said "Heaven and Hell are real places." Fire and brimstone, right there. EGE told me what it had said earlier. Dust on your bible will doom your poor soul. Ponder on that one for a while. Not only while it doom your soul. It will doom your poor soul.
We also passed a road called Big Ass Truck Drive. Funny.
Finally, we went to a place called Mulligan's where everything costs five dollars or less. I had a 4.69 dollar club sandwich, which was really good. EGE had a sallad. In a very small bowl. That refused to be eaten.
First quote of the day, about the fork:
It's not a bad sallad. It's just a bad delivery system.
Eventually, the food was consumed, and we went on to dessert. EGE's birthday was coming up so I figured we'd have a birthday dinner kind of thing. Chocolate cake and strawberry short cake was devoured.
Outside the restaurant, there was a big old clock on the ground, probably once the top of the tower it sat next to.
For some reason, EGE had the brilliant idea that we should go for ice cream afterwards. Now, as you know, we all have a second stomach for ice cream, so naturally I said yes. I figured two scoops would be enough. Then I saw the size of the scoops. Each was larger than my fist. But I persevered! Death to the ice cream!
We basically rolled to the car. On the way back to the house a slight degree of road rage was expressed as a person, who shall remain nameless, said of the car in front:
Person 1: Move it!
Person 2: He's not in a hurry.
Person 3: But I am, because I'm full and I want to get home so I can get out of these pants.
That is all. I am in Montreal right now, which will be documented in future posts.