I may have borrowed this format a bit, or alot, from the great Bill “The Sports Guy” Simmons. It just felt right though. So, without further ado, a running diary from our little weekend getaway to Rehoboth Beach in Delaware.
9:00 am: Our “planned” departure time. Planned in the sense that we “plan” to leave at 9:00 am so that we can “actually” leave by 10:00 am. We’ve finally figured out how to outsmart ourselves.
9:32 am: Jeremy and Charli arrive bearing gifts. Breakfast from Chick-Fil-A. Mmm… chicken burrito.
9:47 am: Jeremy and I finish packin’ up the truck. Fortunately, since we’re just going away for the weekend, the ladies only packed about 14 bags – a significant decrease from the usual 32. It should be noted however, that Charli proudly admitted to having packed some 10 or so tank tops for our 3-day getaway.
(NOTE: Normally I would take a moment here to make some sarcastic remark about the incessant habit that girls have of ridiculously over-packing. In this case, however, I’ll refrain because this would eventually become of significant importance to the weekend. More on that later…)
10:00 am: We’re off.
10:01 am: We pull back into the driveway because someone (not me) forgot the directions.
10:02 am: We’re off – again. 0.01 miles down, 227.02 miles to go.
12:15 pm: The girls (and by girls I mean Sheri, Charli, and Jeremy) have to tinkle so we make a quick pit stop at Wawa. I only mention this because while we’re there I discover this mint flavored iced coffee which I highly recommend if you’re into that sorta thing.
12:38 pm: Now we’ve come to the moment of truth: The Chesapeake Bay Bridge.
Let me give you a little back story. I’m just not real wild about bridges. I mean, don’t get me wrong, I think they’re cool. I like to look at them. Part of me even gets a thrill outta drivin’ over ‘em. I don’t like heights though and bridges are sort of the epitome of that for me.
So up comes this beast that’s over 4 miles long and close to 200 feet high. S’cuse me while I vomit a little.
2:13 pm: We arrive at the hotel. Sheri and Charli go and do the checkin’-in thing. Jeremy and I do the carryin’ all the baggage up to the room thing. The room is nice. It’s no penthouse suite or anything but it’s clean and comfy and we can see the beach from the balcony so we’re good.
3:07 pm: We decided that we were hungry and worked our way down the boardwalk to Hooters. I order a Philly cheese steak. Sheri orders her usual ham and cheese sandwich. Jeremy and Charli decide they’re gonna split an order of wings which lead to the following exchange:
Charli: “We’d like to get 20 wings – half hot and half BBQ.”
Hooters Girl: “Sure. What I can do is give you 10 hot and 10 BBQ.”
Charli: pausing… “Yeah, that’s fine.”
4:31 pm: While doing a little bit of shopping a freak storm comes rollin’ through. It starts pouring rain. The thunder and lightning are ridiculous. Sirens go off to get everyone off the beach. To make matters worse, I gotta go! Having to go and being stuck under an awning during a thunder and lightning storm just don’t make for a good combination. That’s like strapping a piece of toast, buttered side up, to the back of a cat and throwing it out the window to see how it lands. I’m just sayin’.
5:15 pm: After a quick shower and some freshening up, Jeremy and I get dragged to the outlets. I’ve blocked this from my memory.
9:52 pm: Back down at the boardwalk, we end up playing Skee Ball. Sheri makes it my mission to win her a stuffed puppy. No problem, right? No. BIG problem. Apparently, Skee Ball is not like riding a bike and you definitely can forget how to do it. We end up having to call in a pinch hitter. Charli gets it done. I lower my head in shame.
10:25 pm: We go on the Haunted Mansion ride. I love this thing. I always have, ever since I was a little kid. Admittedly, by now it’s so old and cheesy but it’s still so much fun. Redeeming me slightly from the earlier Skee Ball debacle, Charli is scared and hides in Jeremy’s armpit the whole time. I hope he’s was wearing deodorant.
12:30 am: It’s been a long day so now it’s time to hit the hay. And, this just in, I’m a poet and didn’t know it.
2:37 am: What the deuce is that terrible noise? Oh, Charli’s snoring.
9:12 am: “GOOOOD MOOORNING VIETNAAAM!”
10:19 am: We’re up and about and already at the beach. We’ve got ourselves a great little spot right in front of the waterline. Things are good.
We venture on out into the water, which is about as cold as the air is hot. It takes some getting used to but is really quite nice after a couple minutes. I determine that, despite previous allegations, I actually can swim. Although I’m not sure where or how I picked up this skill because the last time this hiney touched the water it sank like a brick (and there will be no snickering at my hiney either). At any rate, I’ll accept my new-found ability. At least nobody can fun of me anymore for not knowing how to swim!
12:39 pm: Charli spies a couple jellyfish tryin’ to move in on her personal space. We consider this to be our queue to high-tail it outta there.
1:43 pm: Lunch at Grotto’s – the best bad pizza in the world! Some pepperoni, a few sprinkles of parmesan cheese… Fa-gedda-baht-it.
3:00 pm: Outlets, outlets, outlets.
6:31 pm: We hungry so we hit up this seafood joint called Wahoo. Most of us get crab legs. Jeremy the girl opts for stuffed flounder. Long story short, the service is terrible but the food is great.
10:12 pm: Picture it: We sitting on a bench at the end of Rehoboth Ave. We’re all eating ice cream. Sheri and I have cups of Dippin’ Dots. Jeremy and Charli got ice cream cones from somewhere else. So we’re hangin’ out in all of our ice creamy glory. Jeremy goes to bite into his cone and ice cream squirts out the other end of it. Stuff got serious distance too. Probably a good, six feet or so. Hilarious! Okay so maybe you had to be there…
11:26 pm: We tune in to SNL call it a night.
1:08 am: Charli’s snoring again.
10:39 am: We’ve already checked out of the hotel and we’re about to hit the road again. We stop at Dolle’s one last time to stock up on all the taffy, caramel corn, and fudge that we can. And just like that – WE OUT!
P.S. With all the running around that we did, getting stuck in storms, and going to the beach, we ended up changing clothes about an average of 2-3 times a day. Now I’m not sayin’ that Charli was right, but, you know… how ‘bout those Red Sox?!
