We woke up at about nine, and dragged our asses down to the lobby to check out the complimentary breakfast that went from 6AM – 10AM.
We had coffee, a bagel, and a danish. Joe was not impressed with the coffee. I thought it was fine. He’s a coffee connoisseur. I’m not.
We decided to put off going to the beach until later in the afternoon, mostly to avoid the hordes of people that would be down there, which translates to an even bigger parking nightmare than what you deal with even when it’s not a holiday weekend at Wrightsville Beach.
We camped out at the pool again, from about 11:00 until about 2:00. At some point in there, we walked over to the Arby’s, which was very close to our hotel, for lunch, and then up to the next light, and across the street, so Joe could get some “real coffee” at “Drunkin’ Donuts.”
There was a lot of drama and noise in the pool during the afternoon, including this large, loud black family.
One of the kids, he seemed like he might have been 15 or 16, told a story about almost drowning when he was younger, and said about three times, “Yeah, if that white lady hadn’t pulled me out, I wouldn’t be here today. Y’all just laughed at me, but that white lady, she pulled me out.”
It was no surprise that the kids in this family were loud, as the mother was the loudest of all of them.
We got to the beach between 2:30 and 3:00, and got in line for a parking spot at Public Access 4, our standard parking lot.
We were very lucky to get a spot within 10 minutes, and bought a parking ticket for 3 hours.
We put our stuff down, and laid out for maybe 15 or 20 minutes, while Joe talked with his family on his cell phone, and I listened to my iPod.
Shortly after that, we took a walk on the beach down to the Shell Island Resort and back.
The tide was weird — it was out — but there were several “pools” of water along the shore. So, there was where the ocean was breaking on the shore, then sand, then water, which in some places was almost a foot-and-a-half deep, if not two feet, and then more shore. The water in the ocean was quite cold. The water in those “pockets” was quite warm.
We left the beach between 4:30 and 5:00, and even at this late time, there was a line of cars waiting for parking spots.
On the way home, we stopped at the grocery store, and bought some ice cream and whipped cream.
Back at the hotel, Joe cleaned, and sliced, the fresh strawberries that Susan had given me on Friday, while I scooped a layer of ice cream into a 16 oz Styrofoam cup, followed by a layer of strawberries, by a another layer of ice cream, by another layer of strawberries, and then topped with the whipped cream.
It was out of this world.
Oh yeah, we had a couple of “Reddi-Wip Shots,” too.
We had dinner at Applebee’s, as Joe had a gift card and wanted to use it. We decided to split two appetizers and one entree.
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Nachos
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Quesidillas
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Chicken Rollup
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The appetizers were “Nachos Nuevos” (hold the beans) and Chicken Quesadillas. The entree was an Oriental Chicken Rollup Wrap. She asked us if we wanted the wrap held until after the appetizers, to which we replied in the affirmative.
Less than 5 minutes later, the wrap arrived at our table, brought out by someone other than our waitress. She walked by just after it was put down, and her head did a little spin, as she approached our table.
“That’s weird. I put that order in about 5 minutes after the appetizers. I apologize that it came out first.”
It was no big deal, and we started on that. About 5 minutes or so later, the nachos arrive, and she looks closely at them as she sets the plate down. “That has beans in it. I told them no beans. I’m so sorry.”
She took those back, and we started on the quesadillas, but only wanted to eat half of the order, because we knew we were going to take leftovers back to the hotel, and we thought the quesadillas would travel better than the nachos.
When she brought the “new” nachos back, she said, “There’ll be no charge for these.”
The next time she came to refill our drinks, she said, “I’ve also taken half off the quesadillas.”
“That’s not necessary we said. We’re fine.”
“No, that’s ridiculous,” she said, “everything was all messed up.”
Our bill came to right around $13, and Joe used his $20 gift card, ending up with a credit. We gave her a $5.00 tip on what would have been a $25 meal had she charged us for everything.
We got to Costello’s at around 10:00, where Patrick (a veteran bartender there who Joe was just mentioning the night before that he hadn’t seen bartending there for a while) was bartending, along with “Michelle.” I just found her MySpace profile.
We, of course, saw (and tried to hide from) a few people we’d met there on Friday and Saturday, but for the most part, it was a good time.
Daniel, the singer, was off, which was a very nice change. Some other guy, who had a decent voice, although he sang too loud most of the time, sang with the piano player, who was a guy instead of Donna Merritt.
The “toaster” was there, and hung around the piano a lot, singing along (or at least mouthing) and doing things with his hands like he was “de greatest singah in de vorld.” At least he didn’t make any tragic dedications tonight.
We had expected to see Kevin and Joey out, but thought they may have bypassed Costello’s tonight, opting to go straight (gayly forward) to Ibiza’s, where tonight they were having some kind of pageant that we heard started at 11:00 — in the place of their traditional Sunday night drag show that started at midnight.
We went over there, but didn’t find them there, either. We’re guessing they opted for a “romantic night in” instead.
Joe started going down some back stairs, that weren’t marked “closed” or anything, and this drag queen came down yelling at him with her hands in the air, “These stairs are for the PERFORMERS only!”
He was so pissed off at her, that he threw his hands up in the air mocking her, and aped, “These stairs are for the performers only! Okay! Okay!” LOL.
We left there slightly before everyone was thrown out right at 3:00.
Back at the hotel, we made another round of ice cream and strawberries! Yum!
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