my memorial day weekend...

Some of you may remember one of my inaugural posts about how great my new years in Spain was; how, in fact, I boasted that it was better than your holiday. Well I think I've done it again, I truly think my Memorial Day weekend was better than yours, and I have a photolog* documenting my Saturday to prove it.

Friday night entailed Indian tapas happy houring, Amersterdam falafel shop dinning, and dive bar juke box joint drinking. Saturday I set out on an expedition to parts mostly unknown to my adventurers and I: Maryland's Eastern shore. We'll get to the tales of Slurry, Frank, and I shortly, but let me first finish my weekend recap. Sunday was a classic M-Day Sunday: bare chested and grilling under one of the good-'n'-hot first days of summer. In DC, that can mean chillin' on a roofdeck in 90 degree heat with no water in sight, which is what we did. With only ice cold beer to protect us from heat rash, we BBQ'ed about an eight course feast that started with halibut and red snapper fillets and concluded with a big ole NY strip. (It's a small grill, we had to do it in phases... think: BBQ tapas). Sure, torrential downpours forced us inside to grill the strip under the broiler, but that did not discourage we party people. Monday included a trip to the public pool (Domestique is now officially "sun-burned"), a viewing of the worst blockbuster of the summer, Pirates 3, and another backyard BBQ. How can anyone beat that? Especially after this: our trip to Waterman's Crab House in Rock Hall, MD.

Beta commandeered the vehicle, and a nice one at that. The satellite GPS lady--a very pleasant alto with no recognizable accent; I pictured her as 40-something and blond, definitely pretty-- guided us safely all the way from DC, off the beaten path and through some pretty po-dunk lookin' parts of MD.

(What? It's a road trip, you got a lot of time in an enclosed area with this disembodied voice, it's pretty odd at first and I found myself needing to associate the voice with a body in order to not get too with weirded out by the whole thing. And no, my sobriety at the time is not the issue here.)

Anyways, Memorial Day weekend is associated with horrendous traffic, and for those who have crossed Chesapeake Bay Bridge to the Eastern Shore, you know what a parking lot hell it can be at 1am on a Tuesday, let alone a holiday. So we were asking for trouble. We got none. It was awesome. The first few pics here are from my view in the passenger seat.

After the toll (US$2.50), but before the big bridge part:
Above: Slurry in 20 years.
This house below here in Chestertown, MD was doing it's own MemDay thing, with a bunch of white flags in their lawn and a big ole sign that read "REMEMBER THEM." Sadly, I was too slow on the snapshot to get that.
Speaking of Chestertown, there is Bingo every Thursday night at 7pm down at the Fire Dept.
This one is a unique fixer-upper available in Rock Hall, not much to look at now, but there is potential there...
Above: we have arrived at Waterman's, which is--as the title aptly declares--right on the water. Yes, this might be the first public image available of our now infamous mustached hero: Slurry Beta. Below, some of the boats in the parking lot. We were one of the few chumps to drive a car to Waterman's, most customers seem to boat there. Awesome. Obviously, some big boats. And, equally obviously, some big bux floating around these parts.
A view of the dinning room at Waterman's:Mmmmm, beer. Yueling, of course.
Domestique's first ever oyster on the half-shell, documented for the world to see (check out the size of those babies!!):Frank, the good buddy he is, loaded this one up with lemon juice, cocktail sauce and horseradish. Needless to say it was good. For my second I went with just lemon juice and a touch of horseradish to get more of that oysterness. I gotta admit, they are damn good. I will not confirm any rumors that I, under the aphrodisiac-influence of the oysters and beer, I turned to Beta and said "Damn that 'stache looks good." I also have no explanation for the ridiculous face I am making below.
And after tossing the frisbee around for a bit in an attempt to work off some of the massive amount of food we consumed (two seafood platters, full rack of ribs, 6 sides, oysters, crab dip, strawberry shortcake [Frank] and ice cream sundae [moi]), we headed back. I got these photos on our way back across the bridge.As you can well imagine, I was in no shape to do anything on Saturday night, and I fell asleep on the floor into a blissful food coma while watching some stupid movie.

Think your Memorial Day weekend can beat that? I don't.

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*I made this word up. Photo essay does two things wrong: 1) Essay makes what I am doing sound more important than it is; and 2) Essay connotates old school to me, and I think it undervalues the medium of the internets that lets me add my running commentary, lets others take copies of the photos and leave comments, and all the other things this vast series of tubes affords us the opportunity to do.