The Deep South (Carolina)

Today it was Friday. Melissa had the day off, so we rolled around the neighborhood she polices. She showed me where the bums hang out and I asked her cop questions. James had to work, so we went to go visit him at Home Depot. He works the contractors desk and spends most of his day calling people and coming up with estimates on their renovation projects. It's not living the dream, but it's work.

I bothered Melissa with movie cop questions (does your partner ever say that he's getting too old for this shit, like does your Chief yell all the time, do you ever get paired up with the nothing to lose cop and if she's ever laid on the ground and shot in the air while yelling ahhhhh!) that morning and kept asking her stupid questions when we went out for drinks after lunch. We went to a place called the Flying Saucer. This bar has over 225 beers on tap and in bottles. They have this club you can join, and once you try 200 different beers, you get a black plate on the wall with your name, a message and the date you completed it. Paul Selig (who may or may not be related to Allen H "Bud" Selig) did this 11 TIMES! GOOD GRAVY! At roughly $4 a beer, we figured he spent over $10,000 easy (when you factor in tip and food) at this bar on this challenge. Add to that the damaging effects that over 2,200 beers can do to your body, and this guy is probably dead or near death. If his liver didn't go out, then his wife/girlfriend probably killed him for ringing up that bar tab. What a loser. I'd do it once, but what he did is ridiculous.

They rotate beers pretty often because seasonal beers come and go with the changing of the weather. Then they offer plenty of specials. They keep people aware of this on the chalkboard above the wall, where someone drew the wise Yoda in chalk. Nice work.

The weather was only in the high 50's / low 60's, but to a Sconnie like me, that's pretty nice for this time of the year. So I sat outside and drank my beer. Melissa joined me, but she wasn't a big fan of being outside. These Southerners can't handle the "cold" weather.

I am a bit of an alien enthusiast (the whole anal probing thing is fascinating to me) so obviously I thought this place was going to be decked out in U.F.O.'s and little green men when I first heard about it. But then I found out that this thing was decked out wall to wall (and even the ceiling) with saucers (the old English style ones, not the alien ones). I haven't been this disappointed since I drove through Roswell, New Mexico and didn't see a single alien artifact but instead saw a sign proclaiming the city as the "Dairy Capital of the Southwest."

This color coded diagram shows what the different plates mean. The majority of the plates in the bar are black, but you'll see a couple of yellows and greens mixed it. Blue through peach are more rare, and with the exception of Paul Selig, not too many people are raging alcoholics with deep enough pockets to collect all the colors.

I loved that they had tons of beer on tap. I love tap beer so much more than bottled beer, and this made me think of a time when I went to bottomless mug night at Rascals on Murray and decided to have one pint of every tap beer (there were 13 total). Although it was rough, I made it. But I couldn't imagine having one of all of these.

This was some fantastic artwork that was painted on the building next door. The detail and coloring alone sets it apart from most murals that I have seen, but something just didn't sit right with me. Oh yeah, the blatant slavery and racial overtones. Since I'm from the North, I don't believe in slavery, but down South here they still fly the Confederate Flag at the Capital Building. South Carolina was the first state to succeed from the United States, so it's no surprise to me that they look upon these paintings with fond memories of the things used to be. To each their own I guess, but in the 2000's I find it a little inappropriate. But you can't ignore history, which is what these things display.

We were just about to leave when happy hour started, but we stuck around for one more beer because the special was 24 oz beers for the 16 oz price. I can't pass up tall beers, so when we left I was good and buzzed. Then I went outside and saw this artwork on the wall. And I couldn't stop staring at the Indian chick's sideboob. This has been a reoccurring problem in my life (from Peter Griffin's Sideboob Hour to the blue sideboobs of the Navi in Avatar) so I kept on staring. Why fix what isn't broken? There's nothing wrong with a little sideboob after all. Unless it is Peter Griffin's sideboob.

We went out to this wing joint for lunch. It was similar to Buffalo Wild Wings, but since it has been so long since I have been there, I can't really compare them other than to say both offer wings and beer. For lunch they have a wing buffet, which was awesome because you can choose which kind you want. I stuck with the boneless wings, tator tots, and a shit load of ranch dressing.