Nashville or Bust

You are being forewarned: I feel inspired not at all. The only reason I am making record of this is because I feel it's my duty. You will more than likely be disgusted with my terrible writing. Here it is. I'm sitting in front of you, looking you straight in the eye and I'm telling you... This is who I am for now.

So... we went to Nashville last weekend, mainly to see The Elms play. (we=Steph and I)

It's about a twelve hour drive from Grand Saline... we left a 4:30ish. My car is a standard, so the night before we leave I give Steph a little 'lesson'... smart planning ahead, I know. I didn't really want her to drive a lot because I just replaced my clutch ($550!) and I don't want to do it again. Also, she claims that the last time she tried to learn she got stuck in a ditch and couldn't get out. (??) Right. So we leave.

Driving to Nashville..... driving..... driving.. Hey! Texarkana! Let's stop, see some of the old digs, eat, shop a bit... See Caleb! Nice. (For those of you who don't know: Caleb is.. was.. something Steph and I shared. Unintentionally. Contrary to popular belief sex appeal does get you in trouble, friends.) We aren't overly superstitious, but that should've been a sign.

Turn Around Now!

After much emotional soul-heaving, we're on our way again. I'm going eighty... eight... in a seventy and *drum roll please* a cop pulls me over. (No one knows about this so let's keep it on the DL.) This guy could be breaking up gang fights, eating donuts, or even equipping his car with a tire jack (we'll come back to this, trust me).... instead he writes me a ticket. Jackass.

We get to Nashville at aboutt 6:30 am and it's pretty cool for about 25 minutes... but we can't find any hotels. We thought it would be cool to scope things out when we got there... you know spontaneity and all that jazz. It wasn't! We didn't take into account that both of us had been up 24 hours and even worked before we left. We drove around ALL the wrong parts of Nashville for 2 hours looking for a hotel.

Find a hotel... check out the view,

and crash.

4:00 pm. Wake up, call my dad, he promises to wire money. (Not necessary, but hey, free money? Yeah.) Stephanie takes an eternally long shower, we order in, get ready for the show that's at a venue called the Rutledge, by the way. (It made me think of you Kev, then made me miss you terribly...)

Through the door, ten bucks, calculating eyes....
they kick us out! Something about being armed communists, our noses being too large... smelling suspiciously of egg rolls and conspiracies... or something. Anyways, we're kicked out. We are so disheartened by this, we feel we can't carry on. Our futures are no more. We sit on the curb and try not to cry. Thomas from the band walks by (unbeknownst to me.. I don't know the guy, right?) Steph is like Hey! You're cool! I'm the idiot that doesn't know who he is. He feels kind of bad that we can't see the show, kind of likes commis and all that. Promises us some merch afterwards though, so we decide to go to a mexican resturaunt next door. Pretty cool, nice waitress. We go outside and sit on this rock pile... thing.. and we can hear the band really well when someone opens the door to come outside and smoke. A RAT chases us... squeaks viciously.. scary.

Okay... short version:

we get a flat tire because we're distracted by this hot guy getting arrested. Two huge holes out of the sidewall, can't patch it. It's Sunday, no one who has my size tire is open... blah blah blah... It sucked. Love Nashville, The End.