Did you miss Part 1? Catch up on our adventures HERE.
My sister Rachel called our room the next morning– not my cell phone, no, the blaring room phone– to bring her a bottle of water. We had kept the entire case, and she and John woke up with zero water. I walked over to their room, and John was lying in the middle of the bed, with three pillows over his face.
“I’m a big pillow guy,” he said from his cocoon.
I turned back to Rachel and handed her the water. “There’s only three of those left. Use them wisely.”
“Oh no! We hydrated too much yesterday!” (Rachel, Katie, and I wanted to make sure we were well-hydrated before our big night out. Every time someone took a sip of water, we passed it down the line and shouted “HYDRATE!”)
“I know,” I said, “but I’m not hungover!”
“I threw up that pizza last night,” she replied with a shrug.
“Gross. Ok, I’m gonna go back to my room now.”
When I got back to our room, Katie and I decided we should go get smoothies. We had seen a Smoothie King on our way to the hotel yesterday, and smoothies sounded like an excellent idea. Steve groaned from under the covers. When we asked him if he wanted a smoothie, he popped his head out of the blankets.
“Yes. Do I have to go with you?” He laid his head back onto his pillow. “I think I’m dying.”
We let him stay in bed. As Katie and I were walking out, she said, “Should we ask Rae and John if they want one?”
“Fuck ’em,” I said, running to the elevator.
We got our smoothies, averted a minor crisis driving– I got stuck in a car dealership aisle and had to make a 57-point turn– and made it back to the hotel safe and sound. An hour or so later, Rachel and John finally moseyed their way down to our room.
Rachel saw Steve’s Smoothie King cup next to the bed.
“Did you go to Smoothie King without us?!” she shouted, pushing her way in front of John to point at the cup.
Katie, the snitch, said, “I asked Bex before we left if we should ask you! She said, ‘Fuck ’em!'”
My loving sister then punched me.
At this point, Steve was laying on the bed, still trying to recover from his hangover. It wasn’t going well. Katie and I were ready to take on the day.
I don’t remember how we captioned this, but we sent it to Rachel to let her know it was time to begin drinking.
Lunch didn’t go well for Steve. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen him so hungover in our four and a half years together. We went to a place called Broadway Brew House because they have these hangover cure drinks called the Bushwacker. (It’s like a whiskey milkshake.) There was no live music there, but we figured that was probably best for Steve’s hangover, and John got to watch golf. (He really wanted to watch it. I think golf is more boring than any other sport to watch, and I don’t like to watch any sports.)
Anyways, Rachel and John got the Bushwackers, and the rest of us ordered a beer. Poor Steve couldn’t even get one beer down. He spent most of lunch with his head in his hands, saying, “Just put me put of my misery.”
Although this photo was taken on the same day, this is the opposite of how Steve felt.
In an effort to keep Steve alive, we went back to the hotel after lunch so he could take a nap. Katie snoozed for about twenty minutes, then joined me to bother Rachel and John for the afternoon. This was also when Katie discovered that Combos are the best snacks on the planet.
“You guys, I’ve never eaten these before.”
“What?!” I exclaimed.
“They’re amazing,” Katie said, wide-eyed, popping one into her mouth.
“Um, yeah! We will get some more flavors for you to try tomorrow! Combos are the ultimate road trip snack.”
My personal favorite are the cheese and pretzel.
Praise the Heavens, when Steve woke up from his nap, he was feeling much better. We got ourselves ready to take on Broadway again, and, to prepare, we decided to do a power hour in Rachel and John’s room. We chose a 90’s-2000’s power house because, duh, they’re the best.
We ordered an Uber after drinking an appropriate amount, so as not to spend $300 in one night again–*cough* Katie *cough.* We went downstairs, and Rachel announced that our Uber had arrived. We went outside, but didn’t see an empty car; there was just one with a family of older people– meaning no children, not elderly– getting in.
The family was drunkenly shouting and trying to get everyone into the car. Rae checked the license plate.
“Oh my God!” she turned to us. “That’s OUR Uber!” She marched right up to the passenger side window, where a man was shouting at someone struggling to get buckled in the back seat.
“Um, excuse me, this is our Uber…”
“What’s your name?” the driver asked.
“Rachel.” She turned to look at me. “Seriously?!”
“I’m Rachel!” a woman shouted from the back, back seat.
“No,” the real Rachel said, getting annoyed. She showed her phone to the Uber driver. “Look, you just texted me, saying you were here!”
“What’s your last initial?” he asked the woman who had been shouting from within the car.
“Yeah, you guys are going to have to get out,” he said to the man next to him.
“Aw come on! Just let us have it!” said the man in the front.
“Yeah, I’m not going to pay for your ride downtown,” Rachel said
Once the family had stumbled out, fake Rachel shouting, “But I’m Rachel!” We climbed in.
“Did that seriously just happen?” I asked as we pulled away from the hotel.
The Uber driver laughed. “You’d be surprised how often. I’ve had to drop people off at gas stations because I wasn’t their ride.”
“It wouldn’t be as big of a deal, except that it’s linked to my credit card,” Rachel said. “And it was just surprising because it’s not like they were, like, young people. They were in their forties, at least!”
Once we were done complaining about the family and had made it to Broadway, we went to Honky Tonk Central. It was packed on the first floor, so we went all the way up to the third floor. We snagged a table and got some food, some beer, and did some dancing.
Highlights from our evening at Honky Tonk Central:
- Two girls we knew from home were also in Nashville and came over to say hi. One of them had found my koozie that I’d lost! (It was my Chicago koozie from my gypsy vacation to California.) They found it on the ground at the bar we’d been at the night before! Alas, they did no offer to give it back to me.
- Rachel tried to pay $10 to hear our girlfriends song, “What’s Up” by 4 Non Blondes. She was the. Asked for ten more. (It was totally worth it.)
- We heard “All the Small Things” by Blink 182. Twice. In one night. (Two different bands.) And we heard it the night before, too. There was a lot of 90’s music being played, which we thought was just a fun fluke our first night. Nope, apparently it’s a thing. So, we did not hear nearly as much country music as we would have liked.
- And my personal favorite…
Steve went to the bathroom, and as he was coming back, there was a bachelorette party. (Well, there were many, but this one was apparently hanging out by the bathroom.) One of the girls was wearing sunglasses with lenses in the shape of penises.
Naturally, he went up to the girl and said, “Hey, I’ll give you $10 for those sunglasses right now!”
“Mmm… How about a drink instead?” she smiled at him. (In his head, he said he was like, Oh my God. This chick is hitting on me!)
“It’s actually for my wife,” he told her. “She really loves dick shit.”
“Yeah, no,” and she turned back to her friends.
After awhile, I decided I was tired (shocker), and we headed back for the hotel. No bad pizza this time, though. Instead, Katie and I creeped on the girl who sang “What’s Up” with the band. (She was on The Voice, she’s been on a weight loss journey over the last year, and she’s married to the front man of the band! No, we’re not stalkers…)
When we woke up in the morning, we pretty much packed up and left. We decided to stop at Cracker Barrel an hour or two into our trip to break it up a little. So, we needed to stop at the gas station before we left, to ensure that we had plenty of snacks until then.
We walked into the gas station, and Katie immediately went on the hunt for her new favorite snack. We bought every flavor of Combos that the gas station had.
“Combos– woo!” Katie said as we broke into our first bag when we got back into the car. Her life has been changed forever.
And then we drove. Stopped at Cracker Barrel. Recorded John snoring. Played “20 Questions”–I almost stumped Steve and John. (I had picked a turtle.) Played “Kill, Fuck, or Marry.” And drove– well, technically, Steve drove.
We were all concerned about being hungover in the car ride home, but it actually wasn’t too bad. Good snacks, good games, and good company made the seven hour trek bearable. Although, I still would not recommend sitting in the middle seat.
Until next time, Nashville.