~Saturday~ We woke up at about 10:00, and I slept a little bit longer while Joe drove to the nearby Drunkin’ [sic] Donuts and got coffee and bagels for us. Sweet! Thanks, my friend.
We hung out at the hotel pool for a couple of hours, where one of the hotel worker’s nine-year-old daughter babysat herself. Joe actually went into the pool at one point and she was very talkative with him, which is how we know that she’s the daughter of an employee (her aunt works there, too) and that she was nine years old. We had guessed her at about twelve. She was a big girl.
Mid-afternoon, Joe and I went to our favorite eating establish in Wilmington, Elizabeth’s, where we each had a salad and then split a pizza and a Stromboli. We got the large size of each of them so we’d have leftover for dinner and a late night snack.
We told our server that we needed our leftovers, and there was a lot, wrapped in small enough containers to fit in a hotel refrigerator. She went above and beyond, returning with our individual pieces of pizza wrapped in tinfoil, as well as separately wrapped pieces of the Stromboli. So thoughtful and accommodating. We tipped accordingly.
My stomach was upset pretty much all day, so we nixed a walk downtown that we had considered doing. I ended up taking a two-hour nap, during which time Joe made a run to the Target, pretty much across the street from our hotel.
I didn’t eat anything before going out, because my stomach was feeling better and I didn’t want to take a chance of having to use the restroom (in that way) in the bar.
We went to the Toolbox again, where again, it was surprisingly not busy. After a while, this guy named Peter introduced himself to me. He and I talked for a little while, and then he introduced me to a friend named Robert who came in.
After the three of us having no clue who the female singer in the video playing was, I dragged Joe into the mix, as 1) he was standing nearby and 2) he had the best chance out of all of us of knowing who the singer was.
I can’t remember now who Peter thought it was, but Robert thought it was Britney Spears, and I didn’t think it was either one of those two ladies. Surprisingly, Joe didn’t know either, so I went to ask the bartender. He held up a pad on which he’d written, Jes, as I guess a bunch of people had asked him.
At one point in the evening, a guy named Michael joined us, and shortly after he did, I bowed out of the conversation. I would describe our conversational interaction as contentious, and Joe later told me that he’d said after I walked away, “Your friend has a strong personality,” and then later, “Your friend doesn’t like me.”
Toward the end of the evening, one of the guys talked about not wanting to go home, because his boyfriend wasn’t out, and he had friends over to their place, suggesting that it was just easier not to be home in that situation. He also mentioned something about them tending to get rowdy and that there are guns in the house. I really didn’t want to hear any more than that.
Shortly after that he went outside to see what was going on on the patio, and Joe and I took that opportunity to hit the road.
Back at the hotel, I ate the hell out of some of our leftovers from lunch, since I hadn’t had any dinner before going out.
Joe was asleep within minutes, and I was out minutes after my head hit my pillow.