Charlotte-Savannah

Trip Start Nov 01, 2013
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Trip End Nov 17, 2013


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Flag of United States  , North Carolina
Sunday, November 3, 2013

On Sunday the 3rd we headed down to Savannah, GA with visions of Spanish moss-filled trees dancing in our heads. We made a lunch stop in Charleston, South Carolina and within minutes it was apparent that it should have been our overnight stop instead of Charlotte.

It was such a quaint little town with boutique-lined streets and fountains lit up along the waterfront. We even witnessed a parade down Broad Street, much to the amusement of the wide-eyed crowds that lined the streets to watch the marching bands and floats roll by. Allie got an extra special treat when the Marine Corps drove by, and she waved with a grin from ear to ear like a military wife watching her man arrive home safely.

Most would say with the countless amounts of parades and celebrations we have back home that this is something we New Yorkers take for granted, but for me it's the opposite; I embrace these small town events, with its excited crowds and pride-filled participants who work all year for this one day, for this one hour that contains more heart and enthusiasm than one hundred of ours.

For lunch we headed to Magnolias, where the white tablecloths and snooty Woody Allen-esque waiters were enough to dissuade us, but the promise of amazing food kept us from leaving. And wow, they did not disappoint. From the delicious fried green tomatoes to the fried flounder to the meaty Bloody Marys, we were happy to have found it despite the fact that we had to miss out on seeing the 500 year old Angel Oak tree on John's Island which closed at 5pm.

We took a stroll down to the river's edge where the setting sun blanketed the city with an orange glow and our shadows grew longer and longer until evening had clocked in for the night. Everyone agreed that Charleston held a lot of promise and we all silently promised to return someday.

We finally rolled into Savannah, GA around 7pm Sunday evening and as we drove through the city we all knew we were in for a great stay. The Sheraton's location was ideal and the neighborhood just had that 'je ne sais quoi' to it.

Unfortunately what we failed to anticipate was how quiet and inaccessible the city was on Sunday evenings, and our first stop at a shuttered Jen's and Friends was our first taste of this reality. We stood on a quiet corner Googling what to do on a Sunday until we had narrowed it down to two cocktail bars: Andaz's 22 Lounge and Jazz'd. We decided on the latter for no reason other than the fact that it was one block closer, and it would prove to be our best decision of the trip.

As we descended down to the underground bar I could already hear the sounds of a live blues band playing (called Bottles and Cans) and I contemplated leaving because I was afraid it would be too loud for our group to talk. But the moment we walked in I knew we found something special. The place was beautiful and the sight of two old, greasy, unkempt men pouring their hearts into their guitars, unconcerned with the world around them, was exactly what I miss about being in the south.

We ordered a few drinks that combined Lambic beers with tequila or whiskey, and for food we chose a pesto salad, fruit and cheese plate, and a she-crab soup. They were all so amazing.

The rest of the group showed up a half hour later and by the time we left we had unanimously agreed that our bartender Logan was the best cocktail maker in not just America, but in the entire universe (including Oz, Neverland, and Xanadu). I'm pretty sure his handlebar mustache possessed magical powers.

Next, it was off to Savannah's only gay club, Club One, for the 11pm drag queen show. Within minutes of arriving Kasia had lured in an inebriated creeper with her animal creepitism and he would prove to be a nuisance for the rest of the evening.

The hostess of the show had enough Botox in her face to Angelina Jolie the entire state of California but she did a great job and we spent the next hour feeding the performers dollar bills which should be degrading but somehow isn't.

The drinks were treating us well (the bartender bought Monica and me a shot, and what did he choose? Yep! Fireball!) and when karaoke hour started Rose Rivers showed up to serenade us with 4 Non-Blondes and Radiohead. She and Monica did an Indigo Girls duet, Adhara ran with some DMC, and Kasia and I Willied through 'You Were Always on My Mind.’

Mister creeper became progressively shady as the night wore on and at one point he decided to put his hand on Adhara's ass which didn't sit well with me. I politely told him to keep his hands to himself for the rest of the night and he apologized but secretly planned my demise for the rest of the evening.

Later he pulled me aside and asked me why I was getting in his business. The conversation went something like this:

Me: "Touching strange girls is not YOUR business, and that's the problem."

Creeper: "Well if they didn't like it why wouldn't they say something to me?"

Me: "It's called being polite, because I promise you, with all my heart, that NOBODY here wants you touching them. Ever.  I'm a male and I realize this and it's really sad that you don't."

Creeper: "Okay"

Me: "You may think you're being smart about this but I'm smarter than you and you're not going to be pulling this stupid male shit while I'm here."

Creeper: "Okay. Sorry. (Pause) But I still think it's a matter of opinion."

Me: "No, it's pathetic and sad, and it's a shame you can't see that."

Creeper: "Okay"

A few blurry drinks later we headed back to the hotel with the amusements of Rose keeping the quiet streets swirling with life, and I fell asleep content with the fulfillment of Savannah's promise.
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