I hate touristy, look-at-our-shiny-bits, news-reels-be-damned websites built by those whose well-being and livelihood rely on unsuspecting suckers traipsing about and looking foolish. (Note to self - figure out how to buy stock in fanny packs and ugly shirts). I want to know where the locals go (the less insane ones if I can catch 'em), or at least someone who isn't paid to peddle.
The Still Kinda Gruntled Nerd's Guide to Places that Might not Suck
My first foray into this unknown world of the mossy and the southern is Charlotte, North Carolina. Right off the bat, I'd describe it as kinda humid and slightly racist (I can't tan, people. Deal with it!)
I'm on loan from our home office in the nice, dry, less pretentious desert, and I never thought I'd miss it; but I do. Don't tell anyone there. 90% of them wouldn't understand you anyway.
Before heading out I requested suggestions of friends, both online and domestic. If I hear one more request for something NASCAR-ie I'm gonna drown myself in free hotel shampoo that smells oddly of Off. There were also great suggestions concerning restaurants I could try (something other than Mexican food is always greatly appreciated) and museum trips (my hometown's idea of a museum is pretty sad. I think we're one step away from a "Tortillas of the Virgin Mary" exhibit) and big purdy houses full of the rich and somewhat snooty (we've got teeny houses packed to the below-code rafters. How many cars do you have to park on your tiny front lawn before anyone becomes concerned?).
Small problem:
Southern Streets are not Built on Logic
or rock and roll
They were built on moonshine and nonsense. 'East' and 'west' mean nothing here. You'd think they'd at least pay a little closer attention to the concept of 'north' and 'south' but nooooooooooooooooo. If I were a turtle and NC were the sea I'd get lost, never mate and swim into oncoming whales and end it all. Luckily the hotel has a bar and snacky food, so I won't starve.
Even tho the streets were planned by and for the cross-eyed (who is this Sharon person and why do all her streets and lanes converge at one point only to wander off and be named something else?) who don't mind stop signs blocked by shrubbery as long as it has flowers, the houses I got lost around were gorgeous. Oh and I won $10 on a NC scratch-off (I said 'on' not 'at'. I don't think I'd like to be anywhere near a scratch-off competition unless I had a hazmat bunny suit...complete with ears and fuzzy tail of course...then again it'd be more of a frizzy tail...stupid humidity... dear god, I'm tired...)
Most of my day has been filled with variations on the theme:
*grumble grumble grumble*
frickin' humidity
*grumble grumble grumble*
curly hair
*grumble grumble grumble*
rental car agency maps slash placemats
*grumble grumble grumble*
Did I mention I seen purdy houses?
Oh and I was called a Yankee:
Clerk: Where you from?
Me: West Texas
Clerk: *mumble* Yankee Tourist *mumble*
Me: Do you sell maps of the US?
Clerk: Yeah, over there.
Me: Good, go look up Texas. It's the really big state souther than you.
As for the streets, all I ask is that when there are a 3rd, 4th, 5th and 6th all lined up nice and tidy-like, 7th should not be allowed to meander about all willy-nillish so I end up 10 miles from where I was aiming before I realize it.
What makes 7 so special? Did someone a long-ass time ago, like in the 80's or something (sorry, I'm trying to not feel so old) think that the punchline "'cause Seven Eight Nine" was so frickin' High-lair-ee-us or, even scarier, a true and frightening tale of the awesome power of primes, that it deserved more respect than all the other numbers? Even more so than 8 who I hear is really a cannibalistic bastard intent on chewing away its own divisibles?
Oh, and one way streets are for weenies.
Viva la Little Mexico!
I think something in me broke when I crossed the Mississippi. Another traveler said they'd found a Super Wal-Mart and it was like he'd said god was giving out free enlightenment and Slush Puppies down at the in-convenience store and the first 30 people get a free Polaroid of Jesus during his nakey phase.
I'm sitting in the Eastern time zone but my body's stuck on Mountain but it seems to have backfired.... I miss sleep... and offices where people actually talk and move around and do stuff other than clack clack clack on keyboards and shuffle papers about and work still gets done.... I need a Feeny hug and a Pi-Pi wake up 4 am wake up call... I need a Conner belly rub... I need a drink.
I'll leave you with this thought:
[insert life-affirming notion of peace, love, happiness and free cable here]
You're welcome. Donations are always appreciated. Then I might be able to buy a real map without cartoon caricatures of smiling buildings and streets that are directionally retarded.
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