Confused? We are too. Well, I am. Steph didn’t drink at dinner. The point is this. The young Ms. Crane picked my sorry ass up from — yup — 2650 S. California, where I had fortunately bonded out. Hah! No, I was just taking a tour, at least that’s what I tell prospective employers. The point being this: Steph drove all the way from Chi-Town to here, Toldeo-Oregon, the fabulous and always reliable Holiday Inn Express. Does this entire blog sound like a paid endorsement of the Holiday Inn Express (HIE)? If not, it should. These guys know their stuff. I really feel like I could operate on someone because I stayed at a Holiday Inn Express. Would I kill the patient? Of course I would. But the point is I’d feel like I could do it. Yes, it would be a tragedy all around, the guy died, and all he had was a broken thumb, and a hairline fracture at that. That should not have happened. He should not have died. I agree! But we’re missing the point, which is that Steph and I love the Holiday Inn Express, and feel like better people as a result of having stayed there. Okay, the next topic is somewhat related, and that is this: The funny thing about Holiday Inns Express (right? Like “Attorneys General”) is that they’re always off an exit ramp in some cockamamie shapeless parking lot complex with other random businesses, like a nail salon and a bookie. Well, in this case, the HI Express is, true to form, in some ridiculous parking complex, but also in that weird complex, almost next door to the HIE, is a Sushi/Habachi restaurant. Well, you can bet your bottom dollar (that is a metaphor) that (by the way, did I mention that I drank during dinner? Okay, just so we’re all on the same page) okay, I forgot how I was going to end that sentence once I veered off into the parenthetical statements. The point is this: We were not going to have the Sushi, at least I wasn’t, and Steph is as loyal as the day is long, especially on long days, because she is very loyal. Okay, so we had the Habachi, and it was so strange because here we are in the middle of Nowheresville, Ohio (okay that was a slight exaggeration, Nowhereseville Ohio (Home of the Fightin’ Prairie Dogs!!”) is a county over, but still we’re close. Where was I? So this Habachi place turned out to be very cool, excellent pork fried rice and noodles, I liked the Filet and Steph enjoyed munching on the chicken (that is not a metaphor). But our chef Tony was the kicker. He shows up at our table with as many crazy gimmicks as food ingredients: a purple bicycle horn, dolls, baby bottles, crazy $@&^! like that. Anyway, the food was good and he was quite entertaining and now here we are. Check out the following images and get yourself some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.
That’s Tony in back.
Here’s Tony with his hands in a different position:
Okay, not sure if we can do this but below will hopefully be a video. If not, relax, enjoy the quiet (or check out a youtube video).