Welcome to the “Anything Can Happen” portion of Chevron Adventure Week. The first few stops were the slam dunks and we’re now entering the questionable part of the trip. Our last stop in New Orleans was the New Orleans School of Cooking where Chef Michael taught us about New Orleans and a number of recipes and cooking techniques that we can never replicate.
On the drive up to Birmingham we stopped in Tuscaloosa to see the University of Alabama. The University of Alabama is THE GREATEST PLACE EVER. The girls could not have been hotter. We drove in past sorority row, and WOW. Just wow. I cannot stress this enough. These girls, HOLY SHIT. When we later told someone we were in Tuscaloosa earlier this guy our age asked “Why would you ever leave?” This is a question we are still contemplating. Full disclosure: this guy was with a really good looking girl in Birmingham even though he goes to school in Tuscaloosa and it sounded like he was cheating on someone back there. Either way, he made a great point.
We went to Alabama’s football stadium which was closed at the time but we got this really nice student who was working there, Brian, to show us around the stadium. Really nice place. We spent most of our time on the club level of the stadium which looked sick.
When we finally got to Birmingham we were in a really nice hotel—the Highlands at Five Points—but there was no one there. We went for dinner and almost beat the Alabamans at Trivia despite missing the first 3 rounds of 6.
The highlight was halfway through dinner these cops show up and walk through the kitchen. Apparently some guy who used to work there got out of prison and came back to the restaurant even though he had only once worked there a few days and was grabbing food in the kitchen and off of people’s plates. The cops came in to deal with it, but that wasn’t the key. Also in the bar were 3 cougars who wanted it bad. From anyone.
So like good cops, these police officers start hitting on them. They’re all touching each other and whatnot, one dude is flexing and they are all over each other. Eventually the cops literally put them in the back of the cop car to go hang out with them. They had lights flashing and they were partying. Way to use those tax dollars Birmingham. The comedy of this cannot be explained.
The side of town that we’re on has nothing going on and after a pit stop at some pool hall/bar/hangout for the creepiest people ever, we try and get a cab to the allegedly more exciting side of town, one homeless guy gave us the worst advice on where to get a cab, but we ended up calling one.
Our cab driver threw his hat into the creepiest person of the trip ring. He made fun of the places we were going and this was all compounded by the fact that Kasey could not have been more miserable. He was pouty and generally angry at Birmingham.
We ended up having a lot of fun at Innisfree. Ryan and I were having fun mostly to spite Kasey.
Our cab driver back had a hooker with him in the front seat. True story. Good times.
The next morning we went to the Vulcan statue, where Kasey was still angry. People here did not have a sense of humor but that may have been because the Alabama governor was there to give a speech and we seemed like a potential threat.
After the Vulcan we stopped by the Peanut Depot to get Cajun Peanuts which were delicious. We ate them on the way to the next stops and left a Hansel and Gretel-esque trail of peanut shells. Then we did the Sixteenth Street Baptist Church—specifically important to me since I consider “The Watsons go to Birmingham” a seminal moment in my formal education as it was the required reading before 6th grade—and the Civil Rights museum there. There was a lot of security in both places again since apparently Nelson Mandella’s ex-wife was following us in and then 50 Congressman were coming later in the day. After we left a room, they sent in the bomb sniffing dogs in to prepare the place.
We then took our peanuts and the delicious hot dogs from Famous Pete’s (which has been open for almost 100 years and Gus has been running the place for the last 50) to the oldest ballpark in the country—Rickwood field. We ate hot dogs and peanuts on the field and continued to feel like great Americans.
Leaving town we even saw an old tire factory on fire. Quite the exit.
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