101 in 1001 Challenge

Saturday, August 7, 2010

62. July 11th, 2010 Picture.

So, judging by the photos from Saturday night, I was not feeling so hot Sunday morning.  What exactly is the definition of 'not so hot'?  Well, let's recap, shall we?  I woke up to answer the door when the girl dropped off our breakfast, HONESTLY just leave it!  I went straight back to bed and attempted to fall asleep even though birds were chirping and the sun was shining.  My head was pounding so instead of sleeping I more or less just rested my eyes.  Apparently Ratty felt like a million bucks because he got up and decided that he'd walk into town, grab a paper and have some coffee.  I just wanted to sleep forever but it's really hard to do that when you feel absolutely pathetic.  People were up and out, doing things, being productive and I wanted to hibernate for pretty much the rest of my life.  I knew I was doomed when Ratty came back with an iced coffee from my favorite coffee shop 'Island Coffee' and I couldn't touch it.  ME?!  Unable to even look at an iced french vanilla triple shot latte?  Do I have a fever?  Something is wrong.

I was finally able to drag myself out of bed around 1pm, throw myself in the shower and get ready.  We had a lot on our to do list and my hangover was not really helping much, at all.  During all our planning conversations, the Whaling Museum and the Cisco Brewery were the top two things we needed to do on our trip.  I didn't care if we made it to the beach, or the Chicken Box (lies) but I desperately wanted to make it to the brewery and museum.  Besides the wrench my hangover threw into the plans, it was also the final of the World Cup that afternoon, and Ratty wanted to make sure that we were at a bar, able to watch the entire thing.  It looked as if everything would be crowded into Monday, which semi stressed me out because our ferry was leaving at 5:30.  I quickly got over it and agreed to go out to watch the game.  Ratty and I were rooting for the Netherlands and pretty much the rest of the world was cheering for Spain.  Once in town we decided on the Rose and Crown, mainly because it was dark inside, air conditioned and served nachos.  We waited a little bit for a table, but it was worth it because the booth we got was right in front of the screen.  We ordered drinks, mine were non-alcoholic and Ratty did his best to choke down a beer, afterwards claiming it was like sipping on razor blades.  It was an interesting dynamic in the bar, mostly because there was one guy who could not sit still for his life.  He was there with his family, who were spread out over about 5 tables.  His kids were squished into the open space at the end of my booth, and he saddled up to complete strangers and asked if he could sit with them.  I kid you not.  He just walked up and sat at the TABLE.  With STRANGERS.  Like, dude I get it.  You have money and you have a lot of people with you.  But like, there are other people at this bar too.  You can't go around making your own rules, putting kids at random tables with strangers, and asking a lovely couple on their honeymoon if you can join them.  For reals.  I felt so awkward and I wasn't even involved.

The game was decent, going into overtime, but the Netherlands lost and the bar when crazy, because obviously the whitest place on earth would be home to innumerable amounts of Spain Soccer fans.  There were even people there with Spanish flags, and they began waving them about when the game was over.  Like, what?  Shouldn't you all be polishing your Sperry top siders?  Joking!  Kinda, but not really.  At all.  What a hoot.

Ratty and I had made the plan on the first day of our trip to have one nice dinner out during our vacation.  We decided to do it on Sunday because it was something to look forward to (or dread depending on how much money we spent up until that point.  Eek it was a lot!).  Also, because the island would be packed with weekenders, we were probably better off trying to get a table on Sunday, rather than Saturday.  Again we walked around and window shopped and realized that we should probably make our way back to the B & B to get ready for dinner.  I am sure that it comes as quite a shock, but we like to eat, a lot.  The only part that is better than the actual dinner is the before dinner drinks.  We wanted to have enough time to enjoy a cocktail or two before dinner and not feel as though we were being rushed in and out.  I hate being rushed.  Ratty called Lola 41, one of the most talked about places on Nantucket, and we nabbed reservations for 9pm.  Hm, 9pm dinner you say?  I say heartburn.

Before making our way back to our room, Ratty and I went on a mission for scratch tickets.  I want to own a house on Nantucket so badly, but I am slowly realizing that unless I am willing to harvest all my eggs and sell them for 10k each, that beach house probably isn't going to happen.  Obviously, another way to make some quick cash is to hit the lottery.  This subject has been broached by almost everyone I know, and it is seriously one of my favorite topics of conversation.  You ask me what I'd do with 10 million dollars, I will break out my Excel spreadsheet and lay out all my real estate investments, trips and expenses for the rest of my life.  Over many sober and not so sober conversations that weekend, Ratty and I had devised a plan as to how to get a house.  We had to hit the lottery.  I'm not talking millions, just a couple hundred thousand.  That seems much more reasonable than millions, let's not get greedy!  (Unless of course God has planned for me to hit millions, in which case I will gladly accept and donate an undisclosed sum to the charity of my choice.  And the church.  Amen.)  At every bar and liquor store we stopped in, we'd scan walls looking for scratch tickets, but there were none to be found.  I had completely convinced myself that Nantucket had somehow banned them and we would look as lesser human beings if we asked where to buy them.  Pshhh those stupid Bostonians.  Don't they know you cannot buy such tacky things on such a glorious wealthy island?!

We finally bit the bullet and asked someone, who directed us to the darkest corner of the grocery store, where the 5 scratch tickets were protected under bullet proof glass.  I guess they don't have the market for the lottery like we do in Boston.  We decided that $10 each was enough of an investment, and after lots of pointing and 'no the other $2 one.  The one with the flames.  No, FLAMES.  Yes, that one.' we made our way to the boat basin to sit and stare at million dollar boats and homes while we prayed for all four leaf clovers, aces, horseshoes, black diamonds or money signs.

Look how complicated that ticket is!  It took forever to figure out how exactly to play.

Toiling over the scratch ticket.  

Come on millions!

Like, where do you even start?!

Not buying any of these boats today.

Wahhh wahhhh.

I did not win much, $2 which made the actual purchase of that particular scratch ticket a wash.  I bought the simple tickets, that required no real thinking on my part.  Did the numbers match?  No?  Cool.  Ratty on the other hand bought the most complicated scratch tickets known to man.  Seriously.  There were bingo games where you had to look on 4 different bingo cards to see if you got B11 and then scratch the teeny tiny square where B11 once was.  Ratty had finished that one and I went to check it.  The entire process must have taken 10 minutes.  And we didn't win.  That's 10 minutes of my life that I will never get back.  Damn you gambling addiction!

Sunday did not include a nap, like the other days of our trip.  I mean, COME ON.  How pathetic would I be if I crawled out of bed at 1pm only to get back in at 6pm?  I mean, there is nothing wrong with it when you're in your apartment and it's raining and there is a really great Law and Order marathon on TV, but when you're on Nantucket, you gotta suck it up.  We got ready and made our way to Lola and it was hopping.  Apparently it's a Saturday night every day of the week because by the time we got a drink at the bar, the place was packed at there was a wait.  We had made reservations for a bar table, and a few of the high tops were paying their checks, so we knew it would be only a few minutes before we'd get a seat.  The atmosphere was great and the restaurant was small but swanky.  It seemed as if everyone in the place was a VIP, or at least they considered themselves one.  At one point an older man in a pink popped collar polo told the host that he wanted our table, pointing directly to it an winking.  I turned to Ratty and said I was nervous we were bring pushed out of our spot, and he almost went up and said something.  Thankfully the host came over and explained to the popped color polo sporting man that this table was already called for and that he would have a table for him shortly.  I assume that people who work at this restaurant are always dealing with big personalities, and they must able to balance it all out and keep them in check.  He did a great job and within minutes we were at our table.

I was starving and the menu was awesome so it was really hard to choose what to eat.  Earlier, when we'd first arrived, we saw Todd English sitting at the bar eating Edamame, so I knew that this place must be awesome.  We ordered Edamame before anything else and snacked on it while trying to pick the rest of our dinner.  We opted for deviled eggs and sweet potato tempura (random mix I know, but SO GOOD!).  Ratty got lobster spagettini while I got a spicy shrimp tempura roll.  I love sushi and I was totally in the mood for it.  This place did not disappoint.  The food was incredible and it was all the perfect portion.  Well, maybe not so perfect because while I felt fine after my shrimp roll, Ratty was too full after his pasta, which I can understand.  We'd had plenty of drinks, they had white sangria which is my FAVORITE and you rarely see it at many places, and food, so Ratty was full to his eyeballs.   Our waitress was fantastic too, the kind of girl who I want to be best friends with.  She had awesome hair.  As it turns out, Ratty had a surprise at the end of dinner.  His dad had given him an $100 AMEX card a while back, with the instructions of taking me out to a nice dinner.  Do you know what our dinner bill came to? $99.51!  Seriously, we are so good.  We didn't even really pay attention to the prices, but even still we came in right on target.  Ah-mazing.

Mmmm, yummy!

I am so good with the self pic.  Yes folks, I took this myself.

After dinner we walked around a bit, so Ratty could get some fresh air and walk off his full stomach.  We made our way around town, peeking in windows of jewelry shops.

I believe my exact words were, 'I have those earrings', but Ratty likes to pretend I said 'I want a necklace, earrings, a pony and a Barbie Dream House....'

We stopped in at the Straight Wharf, where Belichick had been sighted a few nights before, but it was pretty dead and we only stayed for one drink.  Then we made it to the Cable Car, where they have live piano music all night.  While it wasn't as entertaining as the dueling piano bar in Vegas (I mean, what 
is?!) we still got up there and belted out a few of my personal faves.  Bryan Adams, Journey and Billy Joel.  The place is small, a legit cable car, so we only stayed for a few drinks and a few songs before tippy toe-ing out the door.  We were full and tired so we headed back to our B & B to call it a night.

1 comment:

  1. So jealous of your weekend on the Vineyard! Take me with you guys next time, k thanks!