Wilmington, NC through Durham, NC

Brian: I don’t feel very good this morning, and for once it isn’t related to drinking. Well maybe indirectly it is. My immune system has been operating under extremely oppressive conditions for upward of a month, so combine that with sleeping on 30 couches in as many days and frankly it’s a miracle that all I have is a slight cold. Luckily we are quickly approaching Nick’s parents house on Balsam mountain, where I should be able to beat this thing with some fresh air and serious R & R.

Nick: But not yet. Later that day, we headed into a swanky part of town outside Durham, NC in search of a swanky coffee shop. We were not disappointed and in fact enjoyed the place so much we made an afternoon of reading, gaming, and of course blogging. When Jason and his girlfriend Jess were free, we headed to their place for some grub, drink’n and card playing.

Brian: Let’s start with grub. Have you ever heard of Cook Out? It is a wonderful place where one can purchase a burger, 2 sides (pick between corndog, baked beans, slaw, fries, and onion rings) and about a gallon of soda for less than 5 bucks. I followed Jason’s lead and selected Cheerwine as my beverage, which is a local soda that has the flavor and consistency of cherry snow cone syrup. Even with my rigorous junk food training regiment I couldn’t really stomach the stuff.

Nick: I went with a chicken sandwich based on the fact that its name was something like “The Super Deluxe Grandslam Spicy Chicken Sandwich Combo Meal.”

Brian: It had the word “cheesy” in there somewhere.

Nick: Sounds exciting right? Nah. Piece of fried chicken and a bun. There may have been mayo. I was so disappointed when the thing didn’t actually have flashing lights and sound effects I didn’t pay much attention to the consumption portion of the experience. Now for the drink’n: Jason and I have a long and wonderful history with Rolling Rock. It’s the first beer that ever got me drunk, and is responsible for a number of inspirational quotes, most notably my desire to simply “Pour it on my brain.” Thus, we rolled up to the local Kroger looking to continue our illustrious tradition. PBR was cheaper. We bought PBR. Which was fine. Mmm… PBR…

Brian: You don’t pick out PBR. PBR picks you. And that brings us to the card playing. We started out with a game called Euchre, which is popular in the Midwest. It’s a simple game, but enjoyable because of the crazy superstitions you have to follow when you play it. Such as plucking an invisible chicken if you are close to victory. Must be a Midwest thing…

Nick: I grow Very trying to explain, justify, and defend the procedures for Euchre. It’s for every non-believer’s own good that I try to teach them the proper ways to do things. At this point, I’m just going to let them loose in a great flaming wreck of failure. Milk the cow, or be prepared to suffer the consequences. After a few rounds…

Brian: …double entendre…

Nick: …we all piled into Jess’s car and she (she was sober people, relax) drove us to a local bar that I think used to be a shoe factory. Jason rocked some Long Island Ice Teas, which are not my personal favorite, and we dominated at pool. No surprise, I know. Eventually I worked my way into some random people’s foosball game. I would like to take this moment to thank the women in my life that really helped me perfect my foosball skills over the years, skills that allow me to utterly crush anyone stupid enough to challenge my authority.

Brian: Easy big guy. The highlight of the pool bar for me was watching a hillbilly Santa totally shank a shot, rendering the typically harmless cue ball airborne. It sailed about 20 ft through the air, and I laughed my ass off. Maybe you had to be there. We headed back to Jess’ place and I passed out on a section of couch.

Nick: Brian, despite passing out right next to a blanket and a pillow, had forgone both of these items in the interest of immediate slumber. When I, good friend that I am, tried to wedge a pillow under his head, Brian shot up and gruffly asked me what I was doing. I literally had to talk him into laying down again, so great was his suspicion. Talk about paranoid. It’s not like I’m going to pull a killer prank on him at some point in the night as a retaliation for early wrong-doings on his part on this trip. I’d never do something like that. Anyway, that just about does it for whatever day we’re on. We’ll try to sort out the chronology out when we post this puppy. Take it easy, readers. Nick and Brian out.