Saturday's Storyteller: "This was the first time I had been to Buffalo Wild Wings in years, and I had never expected it to be so bloody different."
by Belinda Roddie
This was the first time I had been to Buffalo Wild Wings in years, and I had never expected it to be so bloody different.
For one thing, all the drinks were on fire. Quite literally. I may have been keen on a spicy margarita or something, but I am not exactly partial to flames burning my lips.
The TVs were all switched to the same channel - a weird one. I had never heard of SSN before - Somber Seance Network. There was a brief pause from communication with the dead for some Gregorian chanting.
All the bartenders spoke in German. We were not in Germany. One waiter spoke Greek. We were not in Greece. He provided me a copy of the Complete Unabridged Works Of Shakespeare to read. He suggested that I read King Lear. In Greek.
And the wings? Well, that was an entirely different story. They were good, don't get me wrong, but they made me...feel things. One bite of the garlic parmesan made me remember everything from my last year of high school. A nibble of Asian Zing had me wanting to try out tightrope walking. The Chipotle BBQ rub had me confessing to my friend at the bar that I was in love with a woman I had only met once after a Broadway show. And the cheese curds? No one gets to see that new tattoo.
All in all, a bizarre experience, which left an odd taste in my mouth; seriously, everything tasted like pickles for twelve hours. I'd go back if I grabbed an English-to-German dictionary. Might sail the Grecian isles with that one waiter, too.
Oh, and the other customers at the bar were drunk and loud and obnoxious as fuck. Some things never change.
This week's prompt was provided by Christopher Morton.
This was the first time I had been to Buffalo Wild Wings in years, and I had never expected it to be so bloody different.
For one thing, all the drinks were on fire. Quite literally. I may have been keen on a spicy margarita or something, but I am not exactly partial to flames burning my lips.
The TVs were all switched to the same channel - a weird one. I had never heard of SSN before - Somber Seance Network. There was a brief pause from communication with the dead for some Gregorian chanting.
All the bartenders spoke in German. We were not in Germany. One waiter spoke Greek. We were not in Greece. He provided me a copy of the Complete Unabridged Works Of Shakespeare to read. He suggested that I read King Lear. In Greek.
And the wings? Well, that was an entirely different story. They were good, don't get me wrong, but they made me...feel things. One bite of the garlic parmesan made me remember everything from my last year of high school. A nibble of Asian Zing had me wanting to try out tightrope walking. The Chipotle BBQ rub had me confessing to my friend at the bar that I was in love with a woman I had only met once after a Broadway show. And the cheese curds? No one gets to see that new tattoo.
All in all, a bizarre experience, which left an odd taste in my mouth; seriously, everything tasted like pickles for twelve hours. I'd go back if I grabbed an English-to-German dictionary. Might sail the Grecian isles with that one waiter, too.
Oh, and the other customers at the bar were drunk and loud and obnoxious as fuck. Some things never change.
This week's prompt was provided by Christopher Morton.
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