That's where we ate dinner tonight around the corner from Brunswick's charming downtown, down some stairs and through two layers of thick wooden doors. We were waited on by a charming lass with freckles that reminded us of our friends the Downey's back home in Idaho. Lindsay ordered the chimichanga, and I got the Blarney, a corned beef and swiss sandwich on egg-fried rye.
Surrounded by low ceilings, green shamrocks and hot peppers, we may have found our stomachs, gently removed, doused in dark beer and used as decorations in the basement of this old brick building. The food was good, though still not legit Mexican, it was passable and the fresh fries and corned beef sammich was great. Maybe I liked it as much for the innovative fusion of pub and cantina as I did for the food and service, but I could see us going back to 'ol Pedro O'Hara's place now and again.
We are in Brunswick to do a bit of home hunting. We saw a place tonight and have tentative plans for tomorrow too. To save having to drive here, drive home, sleep, drive back, then drive home again, we got a Sooper cheapo room at the Knight's Inn, courtesy of Mr. Shatner. Awesomely ghetto place. Flat pillows, rattly fridge, runny toilet, low showerheads, street noise.. But, and this cannot be said for our current abode, it does have a desk clerk that speaks some version of teenage girl english and it has internet.
And sadly, though the bed is not extremely comfortable, it is extremely more comfortable than the one at the Northeastern. That's right, as of right now, I live in two motels and own a house in Idaho. I'm the mogul of lame.
Tried doing my tax returns, forgot a couple of sheets, missing a couple, possibly one or two still in Idaho. Maybe I'll just pay someone to do it for me this year....
We're headed back to Windham tomorrow afternoon-ish, where we plan to watch house hunters on TLC, cross stitch, read and make a crock pot. We are indeed the very model of a lame-o individual, but I feel fine.
Please note - Patsy Oshamus' Pepsi that I ordered that came out as Coke that tasted like Pepsi may have had something in it. I feel funny looking. Or there could be fumes in the room.
At any rate, I'm off. The digital version of Stephen King's the Stand (Lighter than the real thing!) awaits in the depths of the nook. Fun "Fact" - Part of the story takes place in Ogunquit, Maine, which Lindsay and I drove through the other day. I am aware that this is not a very fun fact. I'm not certain, but I like to assume that Ogunquit it pronounced like so - Ah Gun Quit, like when a hillbilly says he plans to stop smoking. Example - "Ah gun quit smoking on Furvesdaye, that's when mah Child Sport is due and I gots to go to court."
