If you read my last post you know that my girls and I spent the night in a Richmond Hotel and went to go see Disney on Ice. I realized something on the drive home yesterday afternoon – having fun isn’t really all it’s cracked up to be.

The hotel was free – I’ll start off by saying that. Otherwise I would’ve been at the front desk a dozen times saying “Lucy – you got some ‘splainin’ to do…” The hot tub was broken, the soda machine on our floor was broken, our remote control was fickle, there was zero water pressure in the shower, and there is no on-site parking, which meant I had to circle the streets of Richmond looking for a spot. By the time we had been there 35 minutes I was frazzled and completely annoyed.

After a quick dip in the pool, the girls and I headed over to the Coliseum to see Disney on Ice. Our seats were great, thanks to hubby and his connections. We were about 8 rows off the ice, which is great while your sitting down, but not as much fun if you need to head to the concourse for anything.

After finding our seats, the kids wanted a treat, and I’ll admit, I needed one too So, up I walk to get the girls Dippin’ Dots, and me a Bud Light. I get back down to the seats and realize I forgot to get anything for the girls to drink. Plus, the spoon for the Dippin’ Dots was cracked. I head back up to get a water and a new spoon, and realize, once I’m standing in front of the Dippin’ Dots girl that I failed to bring any money with me. Fuck. It was turning into that kind of day.

After the show, we went out to “shop” and get some dinner. I say “shop” because I had very little money this weekend, so it was more wishful thinking than shopping. Then the girls argued over where we were going to eat dinner. Usually weekend trips like these find us eating in a real restaurant – but with little money we had to settle for Taco Bell.

After a circling our parking lot-less hotel 3 or 4 times, I was able to find a parking spot on a less than desirable looking street where a drunken hobo was staggering like a zombie down the sidewalk. I was thankful for the spot – every theater in the area was having an event of some sort and the streets were jammed.

The next morning we skipped breakfast at the hotel. They wanted $12.95 a person and I figured we could get a better breakfast out for half that price. After more arguing about where to eat, we settled on Cracker Barrel, mainly because I’d never had breakfast there before and wanted to try it.

I ordered eggs over medium – it came with all sorts of sides that are not a part of my usual diet like sawmill gravy and grits. When my meal came, everything looked perfect. I tasted the grits and quickly made a face. I don’t get grits. They have little flavor and even that flavor is bad. The gravy tasted raw – it was too floury – like the roux wasn’t let to brown long enough.

I cut into my eggs and that’s when I begin to get pissed. They are runny – really runny. Nota creamy, liquid yolk but watery. in seconds my plate is flooded with undercooked egg which I try to damn with my bacon. I like runny yolks, but hate when the whites aren’t cooked all the way through. I can’t eat this at all. Strike fucking three on this breakfast.

When the waiter came over I told him that my eggs are inedible, he apologizes and makes no offer to rectify it whatsoever. Not only did he not ask if I wanted them redone, but he didin’t offer to discount them at all – it was more of a friendly “sucks to be you” response. He don’t know me very well, do he?

While I am less confrontational than George McFly, I hate it when I feel like I’ve been ripped off. So when I went to pay the bill, the apron clad gal asked “how was everything today?” and I told her. She called a manager over, who listened to my experience, said she was sorry and took the whole meal off my bill.

This day was getting a little bit better.

After breakfast the girls dragged me to way too many stores where we couldn’t buy anything, and we didn’t get back home until after 2 pm. I was exhausted, but still had to do laundry, clean and catch up on some freelance work.

I have come to the conclusion that I’d rather stay home sometimes. Yeah, getting out and doing stuff is great, but you know what? My shower had fantastic pressure, I have great parking and I know the proper way to fry an egg.

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