We got up at about 10:00, and at about 10:40, were just about to cross the street to try breakfast at Daily Bread when Joe’s phone rang.
He and Nitton had talked about having brunch together today, and he was checking in on that. Nitton said to invite me, and to meet their group at the Marshall House for breakfast.
We accepted the invitation, and walked over to the Marshall House where they were nowhere to be found. A few seconds later, Joe’s phone rang, and it was them. They were somewhere else, and had just purchased a walking tour with Carriage Tours. Hello? You invite two people to breakfast, and then call and tell them how you’ve changed the plan within 15 minutes?
I told Joe that he was welcome to join them, but that I was going to have breakfast. While he negotiated that with them, I went inside to see what the breakfast in the Marshall House looked like. What it looked like was that it had ended at 10:00, because it had.
I ducked into another jewelry store (you’d think I’d learn my lesson), and asked for a recommendation for a “local place,” that tourists might not necessarily know that has a good breakfast.
She pointed me to the ever-popular Barnard Street, and we did indeed find the cute Express Café & Bakery, where we enjoyed a nice breakfast. I had coffee and an Eggel Bagel: scrambled eggs with cheddar on choice of bagel. Joe had the scrambled eggs with melted cheddar in croissant with his coffee.
After breakfast, Joe checked in with the group, and agreed to meet up with them to see some of the town. I went back to the hotel to do homework.
Crossing Martin Luther King, Jr at Oglethorpe, I passed a homeless black man walking, who right after he passed me turned his head back and yelled at me, “Fucking white people.”
Instead of going right to our room, I circled behind our hotel, following the blue informational road signs that said, “Savannah Visitor Center,” where I bought a little pamphlet entitled, “Savannah: Self-Guided Walking Tour.”
Back at the room, I read one of the articles I needed to read for my research paper, and it turned out to be the mother lode of articles, which made me happy.
When Joe returned, we took a look at the pamphlet, where I was horrified to see instances such as:
- “…and its’ Parish House…”
- “…with its’ Guardian Cranes.”
- “…with its’ 227’6″ steeple.”
- “Heading past City Hall sit’s a marble bench marking…”
its’??? What in the hell is that? sit’s??? What exactly does sit own?
Someone has a serious case of apostrophe-itis. Not to mention inadvertent spaces after a word and before the comma following it, no periods at the end of many sentences, and periods outside the quotes that belong inside.
Without a good editing, this $3.95 pamphlet, had a real value of about $1.50. At best.
I managed to use the guide — without having an aneurysm — to walk around the town with Joe.
We finished at about 5:00, and decided to grab dinner while we were out, as we had to be at the club for the 8:00 show. We ate at B&D Burgers, where we shared the cheese quesadilla and loaded fries appetizers, and got a club sandwich to go.
We saw The Lady Chablis, from Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil fame. She performed two shows tonight, the one we saw at 8:00, and another one at 10:30.
The show was good, not great. I was glad to see her, but wouldn’t pay to see her again. She did a little stand-up, which I’m not fond of.
She was, overall, I would say, “endearing,” if not a little too brash at times.
Joe and I were pretty tired by midnight, and with due respect to good and evil, we ended up leaving the club right at 12:13. The exact time at my insistence.
We each ate our half of that club sandwich, got swallowed up in our respective beds, and within minutes were dreaming in its’ [sic] midst.