Kelly and I w/ spent feet decide to keep on and get a slice with her friend Jonathan. After that we started the real evening at the Turkey's nest in Williamsburg, a dive bar for the locals. There were a lot of dudes, the ratio was way off. I think maybe just out of baseball practice from the park? There was an old black lady with no hair at the juke box in red china flats with sock with pink bunnies or something on them. She was picking some soulful classics. She kept dancing by herself in front of the box, waving arms and a foot stomp now and then when things got extra soulful.
Another friend joined us–Laura. She said she saw an open bar a couple doors down. So we left the dive and with two scrawny guys standing outside with arms folded, we asked "what's goin' on here?" They replied, "Well, do you like crunk." We weren't actually sure but we said we were and headed inside. Quite a change of pace. Now we are the minority, music is good and the place is kind of neat. The DJ stops and two girls start rapping. Everyone is going nuts! Lovin' it. Then the break-dancing begins.
Ready for something new, we head a few more doors down to another bar with something very strange to offer– A free pizza with every drink. And now we are all exhausted. Time for that long train ride. We wake some kid up at station so he doesn't miss the train. He is from Iowa and won't stop talkin' to us Caroliners about grits. Not only am I not a good ninja, but I'm also not a good southerner. I have had grits once and they were a no-go. The other night Will's friends asked me if I also ate chicken and waffles. I don't even know what that means. I have never heard of that absurd combo. Is that a southern tradition? Got me...
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