BRAWL, BOWL, no no no BOIL! OOOOOHHH.
Light night was a first. Lizzie and I went to a Low-Country Boil. Yep. Something else.
Lizzie worked in the Vice-President's office at her school (Armstrong Atlantic State University) and a woman that she worked with invited her out for an open house. Only knowing the people she worked with Lizzie invited me and we took the pooch too. It was way out there - like fourty-five-minutes-on-five-highways out there. Directions like turn at the IGA and when you get to the peanut plant take a left. It was just like a get together except nothing I've ever experienced. They where installing in a sprinkler system so the ground was still dirt - not dirt, sand. That is what it was. Dog had just had a bath that morning and after five minutes of rolling around with their dog she was completely covered in sand/dirt/dust. The first thing they had us dong was bellying up to a huge round spool table covered with acctraments. And crack open oysters. Never, have I ever. They boil a big thing of the oysters and then you take some kind of knife and wedge them open. They you rip out the insides (just like Ursella) and dip it in cocktail sause and down the hatch. Taste like shrimp. But that wasn't the boil. Oh, and they had meatballs! Mmmm. You see I've come to the realization that all those open houses you went to in high school where just preparing you for situations such as Low-Country Boils. The boil was a big bot of corn, shrimp, potatos and sausage all cooking together. Boy was that corn sure tastey. Lizzie and were sitting there eating and then started up a conversation with two boys. They started it. And you better believe they could hardly imagine we didn't go fishing or coon hunting and I had never shot a gun before. We where the only Northerners there - that is to say we were the only ones with a Northern accent. It made for a very interesting time trying to understand what people where saying. It was definatly a southern thing. There was country music blaring and NASCAR on the television. It was super funny. "You've never had oysters before!" "Not like this. We're from Indiana - it's kind of land-locked." That was the constant explination. Oh, and out in the country they have stars. Just like at home. And I bet, if I had paid better attention, they even have sunsets. Yep it sure was pretty, but the country in the dark scares the begeezes out of me. I'd much rather walk around the city at night than the country. Even a city as crime ridden as Savannah or Barcelona. And that is a fact.
Light night was a first. Lizzie and I went to a Low-Country Boil. Yep. Something else.
Lizzie worked in the Vice-President's office at her school (Armstrong Atlantic State University) and a woman that she worked with invited her out for an open house. Only knowing the people she worked with Lizzie invited me and we took the pooch too. It was way out there - like fourty-five-minutes-on-five-highways out there. Directions like turn at the IGA and when you get to the peanut plant take a left. It was just like a get together except nothing I've ever experienced. They where installing in a sprinkler system so the ground was still dirt - not dirt, sand. That is what it was. Dog had just had a bath that morning and after five minutes of rolling around with their dog she was completely covered in sand/dirt/dust. The first thing they had us dong was bellying up to a huge round spool table covered with acctraments. And crack open oysters. Never, have I ever. They boil a big thing of the oysters and then you take some kind of knife and wedge them open. They you rip out the insides (just like Ursella) and dip it in cocktail sause and down the hatch. Taste like shrimp. But that wasn't the boil. Oh, and they had meatballs! Mmmm. You see I've come to the realization that all those open houses you went to in high school where just preparing you for situations such as Low-Country Boils. The boil was a big bot of corn, shrimp, potatos and sausage all cooking together. Boy was that corn sure tastey. Lizzie and were sitting there eating and then started up a conversation with two boys. They started it. And you better believe they could hardly imagine we didn't go fishing or coon hunting and I had never shot a gun before. We where the only Northerners there - that is to say we were the only ones with a Northern accent. It made for a very interesting time trying to understand what people where saying. It was definatly a southern thing. There was country music blaring and NASCAR on the television. It was super funny. "You've never had oysters before!" "Not like this. We're from Indiana - it's kind of land-locked." That was the constant explination. Oh, and out in the country they have stars. Just like at home. And I bet, if I had paid better attention, they even have sunsets. Yep it sure was pretty, but the country in the dark scares the begeezes out of me. I'd much rather walk around the city at night than the country. Even a city as crime ridden as Savannah or Barcelona. And that is a fact.
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