Hot Time in High Point

You know us, Babetteers. We are always on the prowl for adventure--and sometimes we find it. Because we couldn't call you all at 11:00 on Wednesday night, we give you the story of a food quest. Pretend we are on the other end of the receiver, scrambling to get the story just right. [My input is in italics.--Sam]

It began as a normal Wednesday night. Sam and I ate virtuous vegetable soup before heading over to Erin's apartment for a movie. When we got there, her dog, Brit, tried to knock us all over with her enthusiasm, as usual. As usual, Sam did everything she could to keep Brit in an excited state. Erin presented us with our movie for the night: Paris, Je t'aime, an independent film comprised of something like 20 five-minute vignettes on the theme of love in Paris by various directors. We sat down to watch.

...and fantasize about going to France, where all our wildest dreams can come true.. I was the only one in the room who hadn't made a trek to Europe, and I may have wondered aloud whether or not Paris has a distinct smell.

Now, that would be the end of a rather dull story, were it not for Sam's stomach. Well, all of our stomachs, really, but Sam's was the most vocal. About three-fourths of the way through the movie, around 9:30PM, Sam turned to Erin and told her that she wanted Mexican food. Taco Bell was rejected out of hand because, as Erin says, it's not Mexican food. So we called up Mi Pueblo, a local place that didn't close until 10PM. We placed our order and were told it would be ready in 10 minutes. Accordingly, 10 minutes later, we bundled up, braved the cold night and made our way over to Mi Pueblo.

When we got there, the doors were locked. We could see people inside cleaning up, but when we knocked on the windows, they started turning off lights. Thus, our odyssey for food began.

...and it was a perilous journey. You must understand how vulnerable we were as the night grew and colder and darker. Not one of us thought to bring a phone. Our grumbling stomachs made us forget about all the dangers inhabiting the darkness. Giant spiders. High Point muggers. Aliens. Other people...

We checked another Mexican restuarant. Closed. We realized that Applebee's and Ham's were the most likely to be open, as they are also bars. Erin suggested that we try Ham's. Unwittingly, we stumbled onto the place to be on a Wednesday night in High Point. Ham's, open until 2AM, was packed. We sat in the lobby for 5 minutes until someone noticed us enough to inform us that we could order take-out at the bar. And so, into the bar.

A man in a red shirt nodded at us, and Erin avoided eye contact. This was wise. We later saw the man slowly guiding a beer bottle across a woman's forehead. He was not her date. In fact, when her date arrived, she didn't really have an explanation for why Red Shirt was giving her a beer bath. A man sat at the bar with his laptop, and I figured nothing much could happen in a place where some guy can run numbers while noshing on French fries and gulping his beer.

We find a spot to squeeze in and order. A few minutes later, a guy pulls out a microphone in the corner of the room and polls the room as to whether they'd rather be able to listen to the Carolina game or start karoke night. Karoke wins out due to strong support from the table of drunk ladies in the front. But before we can partake of this particular delicious schedenfreude, another intrudes. Behind us, a fight breaks out.

Seriously.

A guy who looks sort of like this and a guy who looks kind of like this, only with a goatee and considerably less hot, go after each other in front of the pool tables, possibly over a girl. Karoke guy steps in to break it up. The DQ Qualls look-alike very carefully sets down his cell phone on the table before he is escorted out the front door by karaoke guy. The Kel Mitchell look-alike, however, he eludes capture and runs out the back.

Karaoke Guy was like, "Don't buck up at me, man!" The table of drunken ladies ready to belt out Celine Dion tunes followed the action to the parking lot. I heard one woman holler, "It wasn't his fault! That guy started it!"

Now, there must have been a pretty big brawl after that out in the parking lot, because when we finally get our food twenty minutes later, we walk out past people giving statements to the police in the lobby to find three police cars, two ambulances and a fire truck.

All we wanted was food.

...and don't you think this story needed giant spiders?