Today, so far, is a quiet day. We are sitting in a motel and just enjoying having the internet!! Yes, indeedy, we are truly on the internet in our room!! The maids keep walking by, seeing if the "traveling writers" are still in their room, and trying to figure out what the heck Sandoz was taking pictures of in the car. Hey!! Maybe we can just let them clean the car; you think?!
Breakfast was interesting. At the Best Westerns you get a free continental breakfast. It really is pretty good, and usually is in a kitchen type area off the lobby. When we checked in at some late hour, well, not quite as late as we thought because at some point we hit a time change, the manager gave us a "meal ticket." That was after he changed our room numbers a couple of times. First change was when we hobbled into the lobby. I was in my traditional travel wear, shorts and t-shirt. He saw the "leg." I look at it and see "sporty, more active, paralympics." He apparently had a different reaction. He immediately said, "I assume you want first floor..." Then we bantered about the lousy internet at the last stay (where Sandoz left them with the impression that we were travel writers; which of course we are, since we are traveling and blogging) and he sent us to a very specific room, which I take to be right next to the router.
Anyway, back to breakfast. We went down to the lobby and asked if we were too late for breakfast. We were told that we needed to go to the restaurant across the parking lot. You are all thinking "Waffle House" are you not? (For the west coasters, there is a chain of restaurants that are actually called "Waffle House.") Wrong...we were to go to "El Arroyo." I'm thinking that I am really not up for a Mexican breakfast in Nashville, whatever that could be. We were ushered to a little back room where there was the usual set up of danish, bagels, cereal dispensers and waffle maker. However this time there were two hot server dishes; one with scrambled eggs and one with sausage patties. I thought, eggs! Cool! I should have just slowly walked away. Most of the eggs were encrusted to the bottom and sides of the tub. Then the piped music began. Sandoz said that we "sure weren't going to eat here" which 2grandma took to mean that we certainly weren't going to go back and pay real dollars, and I agreed. The area was pretty nasty as far as cleanliness. I put my crusty eggs on the booth in the middle and prepared to sit. Thank goodness my writing partner set me straight...and good for the restaurant that we are "travel" writers, not food critics!! We carried our styrofoam plates back to our room, which likely further frustrated the poor cleaning folks. And then, as I began to eat, it happened. Any eater outer's fear: the dreaded hair cooked into the eggs! I know, this is no Bizarre Food entry, but sometimes a teeny tiny thing like a hair can set a person off. It isn't like I was searching for a place off in a faraway land that can fix the perfect hair (I'm talking in food, Sandoz, settle yourself down), it was something that I just am not ready for first thing in the morning. The plastic encased Danish suddenly looked a lot better than the eggs. (Note to self: stay with packaged foods when going for the free stuff.) Eggs are now in the garbage, which is still sitting here; where are the maids when you need them?
We are slowly preparing for another day in tomatoville. Dollywood? Music City? Grand Ole Opry? A stage show in which we can enjoy the Beefsteak? That is for US to decide, and you poor readers to wade through on another entry. Until then, keep on smiling, my little stupice.