Of course, since we were out partying with my brother the night before we didn't get a very prompt start. We left around lunchtime and immediately went to get some lunch. There's a pizza and grinder shop just a mile or so from my brother's place, and we pulled-in there to get something to eat.
I cut south through the city and pointed out the places I knew from vacationing with my brother there so many years. I wanted to drive down US-13, since I knew it was a fun drive and very sceinic. I had a couple of false-starts, but we eventually found the highway and managed to get some time in.
We stopped in a desolate little town, Winton, and I tried to call for a hotel but there was no cellular service. I used a land-line to make reservations at a hotel that Mike Jones recommended to me. We were set-up, and had a short, happy drive to Raleigh. I flew through the back roads and zipped around corner after corner out in the wooded, old-growth lands.
There was little traffic. Occasionally, we found someone who wanted to play and could keep up. A Corvette, once. And some guy in a BMW M3. We took US-13 down to US-158, which ran westbound. We found US-401 and shot it straight into the city.
Finding the hotel was a little dicey, though. The navigation system had been purfect to this point, but was occasionally giving us bad turns and acting as if it wasn't quite calibrated right. It would tell us to turn when it wasn't necessary at all. After twice following it's bad advice, I drove along using the map mode and made it to our hotel.
We checked-in around 5pm. There were people moving around the city but there really was little traffic and few pedestrians. We were squarely downtown, though; inside the I-440 loop that surrounded the city and in one of the taller buildings in the skyline.
I called Mike and he gave us vague directions about meeting him where there was a new bar, pretty close to their offices. He said there was a Denny's and that it was very near the Wake Forest campus. That was all I needed: the navigation system had all the Denny's in town, and there were only three. It was trivial to pick the right one and find the bar.
Though I was eagerly anticipating meeting these guys for drinks, my heart sank when we got there. The joint was a goofy Carribean-fashioned open cabana joint. It was a real meat market, and it was absolutely packed. It was hard to get a beer, though once we were started it was a race downhill.
Mike and Jay were there along with a young lady who's name I'm afraid I can't remember. We caught-up and talked alternately about work, vacation, and what was going on in the town. Over time, the crowd thinned and we finally built enough seniority for a table outside.
It was a good time. Scot showed up with his wife, and we ordered some food. I choose my friends carefully. It was absolutely effortless to be with these guys; we had great fun and drank and laughed. I ordered a really great jerk-spiced plate with shrimp and noodles. Some sort of jerk shrimp scampi creation. It was swell.
And wed did it for a long, long time. The crowed thinned out even more and the waiter made last call. It was already two in the morning when we left the place, and we stood and talked in the parking lot for another hour or two. Mike had a new Jeep, and of course I showed-off the Porsche.
Liz and I drove back with the Navigation Babe and parked at the hotel. Upstairs, we crashed-out and slept in.
Last modified on 30 August, 1999.