The title should probably be more appropriately named BBQ and booze. Brett and I took a trip to Memphis with my parents a few summers ago, and I can't wait to go back.
On arrival we made a quick decision that our initial hotel choice left much to be desired. We really wanted to be able to get to our car in the morning with all wheels in tact, and no one with a gun wound.
We wound up booking at a snazzy place right on Beale Street. We then busied ourselves with finding a local BBQ joint to get dinner (Image A ). None of the meals in Memphis disappointed.
After dinner mom decided to turn in and relax in the room (which was good because it probably cost
an immense amount). Glad someone enjoyed it. Brett, Dad, and I soon found that getting a beer was going to be easier than finding a taxi that wasn't pulled by horse. I will get to those guys later.The entire perimeter of downtown Memphis is covered in beer vendors. The company name? Big Ass Beers. How perfect! They indeed sold big ass beers, and also margarita-esque mixed drinks in buckets with a handful of straws. You know, for sharing. Remind me why A: I've never been here before, and B:Why I haven't been back since. (Image B - almost all of us looking at the camera). You can tell this was a few summers ago by the fluffyness of Brett- He was still a handsome devil.
We were there, we saw, and we conquered... almost every other Big Ass beer stand from beginning to end of Beale Street. We camped out for an hour or so to watch some street performers sing the blues, naturally. My dad took a liking to this poor old bastard who was playing the guitar like it was saving his life. So we watched his little street gang of a band play for what seemed like forever. It was spectacular. I have circled little guitar man in (Image C) he is about to scale the railing of the pavilion. Rock on little man, rock on.
Many a beer, and many a blues song later we decided to mosey back to the pricey hotel and get an ear full from mom for our late night shenanigans. There are a lot of horse drawn carriages around town that you
can pay a hefty price to be carted through a tour of the city on. The later it gets the more of these carriages sit parked at the sidewalks. I honestly can't tell you the details of how I managed to do this, but all of my "big ass beers" resulted in me walking into a "big ass horse". A parked big ass horse. I am not sure why Brett and dad (who were directly behind me) didn't see these events unfolding fast enough to quickly move me out of the line of fire. I suspect it is because they were busy laughing and watching in horror. Hilarious horror.
So I full on crash into this horse, and I didn't yell out, or move quickly in embarrassment.
Nope, I just took a step back, and apologized to the horse, and proceeded into the street. Apologized to the horse? Really Stef? Don't worry I am shaking my head too. When we made it back to the room mom didn't scold us, and if she had we would not have heard it through all of the noise coming from the partyers in the streets. I wish I were joking, it was that loud (even from the 7th floor up) until about 4am. Then awkward scary movie silence.
Needless to say, I rather liked Memphis. Who wants to go back with us? I promise I won't run into any parked horses next time. Totally kidding, I make no promises.
- I almost forgot to mention, Rendezvous has the best ribs I have ever tasted
in my life. That place is spectacular.