Saturday started off good. Well, except for the random messages on the back of trucks. Sorry, Bucko. This is not okay.
Don’t let my chip less plate fool you. Mounds of guacamole were consumed.
And then my pictures stop, because it got ugly. I’m not proclaiming football knowledge, but I know it wasn’t good. Except for that one play where I clapped and yelled and Nick laughed. Better luck deciphering football next time.
After the game we had the worst experience EVER at Buffalo Wild Wings, name being the first clue. (Okay, I admit it…their wings are tasty!)
We sat down in the bar because the restaurant was packed. Without even checking out our surroundings (big mistake), we ordered food and multiple waters. Two seconds after the waitress left our table, four middle-aged men, who have apparently turned their obsession with Rock Band into a real band, blare music at us. Drums, bass…the whole shebang. I can’t hear myself think.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of “Knock Knock Knocking on Heavvvennn’s Doors,” as loud as humanly possible. Just not after an emotionally draining football loss/tailgating day.
We were not happy. We moved to the enclosed patio. No help. Girl covered in perfume sits down right behind me. Even worse. Food order changed to to-go. No luck.
We ended up canceling our ticket after an hour and 15 minutes of waiting. Well, Nick was waiting. I was asleep in the car.
How unhealthy can you possible make zucchini? Fry it and dip it in ranch. So good.
Non-fried zucchini in my near future! It’s all about moderation.