Monday, April 14, 2008

Evansville

Just after crossing the Illinois/Indiana state line last Thursday, while still in the truck, I called Brad to find out a good place for Pat and Salim to drop me off, as they were routed straight through Evansville. An hour after receiving the coordinates, the truckers let me out, about half a mile from the intersection Brad named (because there was plenty of room on the shoulder to pull the truck over, while we were unsure whether there would be such space up ahead).

At 4:30 I arrived at our meeting place and lit up a Pall Mall from a pack Pat had given me. I figured I'd finish the smoke, then call Brad to find out when he'd be around, but Brad pulled into the gas station's parking lot before I finished smoking my evil cancer stick, shortly after 5:00. While loading my backpack into the back of Brad's Jeep, he introduced me to his son, Kam, who was riding in the back seat. On the way to his house, Brad showed me a little bit of Evansville, including the railyard.

At his house, Brad immediately dug out his hair clippers and fixed my scissorjob with the 1/4" attachment. I took a shower and started on my laundry, most of which I'd not even worn but needed washed anyway because, as you may remember, all my stuff was soaked in Georgia. (I'm going to redo my head with the 1/8" attachment before I leave Brad's house.)

I had some clothes that were still clean enough to wear in public, so sometime Thursday evening we headed out for dinner at what I guess is Brad's favorite Evansville pizza joint. I think it's called Turino's. (Brad, correct me if I'm wrong.) First we took Kam to Brad's ex-wife's house and picked up Brad's good friend Ben (who marched with Brad in the Limited Edition Drum & Bugle Corps the year after my final season). Then we headed to the pizza joint.

I usually prefer a simple pizza with only cheese or pepperoni, but Brad and Ben were Jonesing for something with a lot more stuff on it, so I decided to try a pizza loaded with toppings I've never considered eating before. I think it had pepperoni, sausage, black olives, green olives, and a couple other things on it, but I didn't pick anything off of my pieces and I enjoyed it. (Thanks for helping me broaden my repertoire of tastes, guys.)

Shortly after the pizza arrived, Steve Groves and his wife showed up. Steve marched in Limited Edition one of the years I was in the corps, but I didn't know him very well. It was cool to see him again after all these years; his wife is very cool.

Since Brad had to work early Friday, we didn't stay out very late Thursday night.

I used Friday to catch up on my e-mail and mess around on Brad's computer. When he got home from work, we went to his girlfriend Lora's house, then to another pizza joint, where we ordered their signature item, "stromboli." I was confused with the menu because they did not have a list of several different types of stromboli. "Stromboli" was just listed at the top of the "Sandwich" menu, and there was just one variation, which the menu does not even describe.

When our "strombolis" arrived, they turned out to be sandwiches. They were sliced sub rolls with ground beef, cheese, onions, peppers, and maybe some other stuff. Considering this pizza place was clearly a favorite hometown joint (with three or four locations), I just sat there and wondered, "Has anyone ever told them that this is not a stromboli? How do they not know already? What the fuck?!?"

Confused, I ate my not-stromboli. I thought the previous night's pizza was much better.

After dinner, we spent most of the night hanging out at Lora's house.

Saturday was very interesting. We wasted the day and prepared to have a night on the town. Sometime in the evening, we picked up Lora and headed toward downtown Evansville. They wanted to show me around, but the warm day had turned into a cold and windy night. We parked about a mile from the heart of downtown, beside the Ohio River, and started walking toward the action. But after five or ten minutes of walking, Brad (who had no jacket) couldn't take any more, so we headed back to the car. That was fine with me because I was cold even with a jacket, particularly because I'm used to having thorough insulation atop my head. Without my signature mop on top, I now get cold much quicker.

Upon returning to the car, we headed to one of their favorite bars.

Just before we entered the bar, they informed me it was a gay bar. No, it didn't freak me out. I've been to gay bars on many occasions before. And no, I'm not gay; I'm just not a fearful bigot.

So we all sat at the bar, consumed some adult beverages, and eventually began talking to a very gay guy named Stephen. Stephen was cool. He was also into drum corps; however, he never marched in a drum corps.

A couple hours later we went upstairs, as the show was about to begin. What show? The drag queen show.

I couldn't really get a good picture from where I was sitting, so here's a crappy one.



I have another picture that might be a little better than that one. Maybe I'll get it up here some other time.

Anyway, I got some video footage of the drag queen show. You'll probably never see it because it's not really all that interesting, especially if you're gay and have seen 50 such shows already.

Since this is getting pretty long, I have one more thing to say right now about my time in Evansville: Yesterday, at Lora's house, Lora decided to make some food for me and Brad. She started by rolling out a canned pizza dough into a rectangle. To the dough she added ham, turkey, and cheese. Then she rolled up the dough lengthwise and sealed the ends before adding an eggwash and putting it in the oven.

In other words, she made us a stromboli. Not just a random food creation someone just decided should be called "stromboli," but a true stromboli. She didn't know it was a stromboli, though, because she thinks the pizza joint's sandwich thing is a stromboli. I can't remember if I pointed that out to her.

I preferred her stromboli to the pizza joint's "stromboli."

Also, Lora's really nice. And Brad, you are a very good dad. It's obvious that your kid loves you, so keep doing it right.

--
Aimless
Aimless Video Evidence
Call me sometime; I get lonely. 614-738-3867

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

Actually it's named Turonis. Glad you liked Lo's "stromboli"

Lora Biggs said...

I am so glad that I met you. Thank you for the kind words.