Saturday, April 2, 2016

Ah, Memories

Hey, Friends.

So, last night was the inaugural First Friday in the city of Poughkeepsie.  It was a fun evening and a good time with friends.

Anyway, a few drinks were had.

By the time we were at our third establishment of the evening, and I was halfway through my drink, I knew I had crossed the line into tipsy territory.  Luckily I did not have to drive any more that evening. (Thank you Juan Murphy's for being within walking distance of my house!)

I toddled on home and left everyone else to continue on their merry way.  I knew I was done at that point.  It wasn't until I was home, snuggled up in my pjs on the couch watching television, that the craving hit.

Sometimes when you have had a few drinks of the alcoholic variety, you really just want some greasy food that you know is totally shitty for you.  You know I speak the truth, Friends.  Sure, I had falafel earlier in the evening, but that wasn't cutting it any more.

Unfortunately for me, I had none of that in my house.  The best I could do was microwave some popcorn and think about what a sad replacement it was for what I really wanted, what I was absolutely craving and could not tear my mind away from.

Not pretty, but so damn good

I'm pretty sure I would have sold my soul to whomever would have brought me a Garbage Plate last night.  Too bad Nick Tahou's is like a six hour drive away.

And that started the memories of getting garbage plates at the Brockport Diner, and the hot dog man who was always conveniently located directly outside NorthBound.  Of the trippy fire alarms at R.I.T. that really freak you out the first time you are there to experience one in an inebriated state. Of randomly driving to Rochester late at night in search of the only 7-Eleven in the area because only a real Slurpee would do -- not any of this Parrot Ice stuff -- and then parking in a random parking lot to watch the lights of the city and just chill out.

Those were some good times.  I think a Phi Sig reunion should be in order ASAP.

And seriously:  some place around here needs to get a garbage plate knock-off going on. Preferably with delivery service.