Have I mentioned that I will never, ever, stay in a Comfort Inn again?
Surveying the breakfast, we were presented with the option of a hockey puck shaped circle of eggs, a hockey puck shaped circle of sausage, and a variety of overly sweet looking baked goods.
I snagged some eggs, a sausage circle, a biscuit (hey, I'm in Tennessee), and headed over to the orange juice machine. Pouring myself some juice, I was suddenly accosted by a strange little girl.
"Excuse me, but you probably don't want to drink that without a straw."
It was early, I was grumpy, and I stared at her in abject confusion and not a little hostility. "Pardon me?"
"Orange juice wears the enamel off your teeth. You probably want to drink that with a straw." I continued to stare at her in confusion. "Here." She grabbed a straw off the table and plopped it in my drink."There you go."
"Thank you?" I said, still utterly confused. Rachel sidled up beside me and muttered, "What a horrible little girl." We beat a retreat back to our room.
The breakfast turned out to be inedible, so we dumped most of it (after I drank my orange juice withOUT a straw) and checked out, heading straight downtown to the Ryman Auditorium, home of the Grand Ol' Opry. Rach once again blissed out at the chance of seeing one of her country music meccas, and after a suitably worshipful period of time, we hopped into the car and started the trek to Memphis.
Here's the thing about driving with Rachel. She doesn't want to take the quickest way, she wants to take the prettiest way... a philosophy that I am very much in agreement with. We got off of the I-40 as quickly as we could and took some of the less travelled roads, which resulted in an absolutely gorgeous drive and some interesting diversions into some very small towns. Around 1pm we started looking for a good place to stop for lunch, trying to find somewhere that fit the following criteria:
1) Looks like the bathrooms have soap
2) Looks like the food will be somewhere between pretty good and won't make us hurl
3) Doesn't look like the klan has a permanant home there
Totally valid criteria, in my opinion.
By 2pm we had hit Centreville, and took a run through it. We saw some likely looking restaurants, but the town itself, frankly, was a bit creepy. The town got nixed when one of us spotted a symbol for something called the Knights of Pytheas, and we couldn't decide if it was a charitable organization or a klan front, so we moved on. In due time we found a nice little place by the Tennessee River that served a wide variety of food, as long as what you wanted was seafood and deep fried.
By 5pm we were in Memphis, and checked into the Heartbreak Hotel just a short walk from Graceland. Tonight: Beale Street. Tomorrow: Elvis, baby.