A Day In The Life

Face it. Sometimes the best-laid plans just don't work out, no matter how hard you cry. Case in point. I was at the beach with my sisters, my Dad and his wife in South Carolina all week last week and the weather was nice every day. On our exit day, you guessed it, it rained like the Ark had pulled into position and was loadin' animals. Therefore, the drive back across the mountain, and if you've ever made it, you know what I'm talkin' about, was even more treacherous than usual. I was white-knuckled all the way, looking forward to getting home to go watch the Vols play Ohio, but not at the rain-soaked stadium. No, our plan was to take Mulligan's up on their $15 per person all-you-can-eat-while-you-watch-the-game buffet, since that was the same price as the pay-per-view and we thought it would be more festive with a crowd. PhillyTwo decided to go along, so the restaurant was definitely gonna turn a tidy profit on us, what with the beer consumption and all. So we scooted on over to Mulligan's at around 6 p.m. and by that time, Ron and I were starving. We probably would have gone a lot sooner, but PhillyTwo was against watching our gluttonous savagery for a full two hours prior to the game. So at 6, we walked into Mulligan's and every table in the entire bar area, where all the good t.v. viewing would have been, was either occupied or had a RESERVED sign on it. There was a t.v. on the other side of the restaurant, but it was positioned so high that we would have had to go straight to the chiropractor after the game. I should also mention that there was no hostess or manager anywhere in sight. The inmates had taken over the prison, for sure. I looked at Ron and said, "I'm not staying." So back to the car we went. Just as we were backing out of the parking space, a nice lady (an owner, I think) knocked on Ron's window and tried to persuade us to come back in, but she wasn't going to upset the inmates by giving us one of the reserved tables in the bar, so we politely declined. After all, there are other sports bars in Knoxville.
Our next stop was Rookies, because at this point, we were really trying to stay close to home and we love their cold shrimp and cocktail sauce, even if we do hate the smoke there. But the sign on the door said that $15 would get you in and all you could eat in hot dogs, bratwurst and burgers. No shrimp. No thanks. We'll go somewhere else.
So we headed down to Rick's in Downtown West. We'd been there before for a game and the food was really good. We parked. Went in. No available tables, which wasn't really all that surprising since it was at least 6:30 by then. Also, the smoke was really bad.
So back into the car we piled and drove a little further. All the way to Western Plaza, to be exact. PhillyTwo had heard about a new spot that opened: Level Ten. It looked promising. We went in from the back, where there was a pretty good-sized porch with t.v.'s. We might have sat down there and been happy, but on one side of the porch, the tables were full and on the other side, all the tables had RESERVED signs on them. So we went inside, where there were plenty of empty tables and several t.v.'s. We soon realized why. We sat down at one for a few moments, but we all agreed that we didn't like the smell of the place, and since no one had approached us in the time we were there, we exited without further ado. I was quite adamant that I couldn't have eaten anything in there with the smell they had going on. It was just plain sewage-y.
By this time, Ron had exhausted his patience and was just getting annoyed with the whole situation. Hunger does that to him. So as we drove back down Kingston Pike, the tension was mounting. That's when we decided we would go to Calhoun's on Bearden Hill. Surely they would have the game. Ron let us off at the front door, and I stopped at the hostess stand to make sure. The girl said, yes, they would have the game in the bar area. Thank goodness! We found a booth and Ron joined us after he parked the car. The waiter came to take our order and after we decided on which brews we wanted, Ron asked the waiter...just to be sure...that they definitely were gonna show the game. He said no, they weren't gonna have it. Wait! What? I just asked the hostess and she said, yes! Oh, she doesn't have a clue. Sorry. At this point, we weren't going anywhere. It didn't matter. We ordered our food and resigned ourselves to the fact that we weren't going to see the game. But at least we heard it while we ate our wings and pizza and drank our beer. Calhoun's had the radio broadcast on loud and clear.
Next time, we'll get the game at home and cook. As I said, the best-laid plans.