So it turns out that this weekend was time for a good old fashioned adventure. Without really explaining much besides, “Get in the car and shut up,” I was thrown out of the apartment on the last Saturday before I started work to check out the sites around Albany and possibly go looking for a new home. You know, because dragging me into sunlight is what motivates me to do anything. Try as I might to convince her Veronica still does not believe that I possess the same qualities as a gremlin.
There are some things in this world that I hear about and simply must go and be part of. Red Robin was one such thing.
This is how it was sold to me:
Order a burger and you get bottomless steak fries.
I don’t know how much rationally thinking adults could really turn a blind eye to that, as I certainly could make no attempt to. Using the new found power of our smartphones I found out that there was one almost walking distance from my Grandmother’s former house–this is said because I am sure that she would have both loved this place and possibly had it push her to an earlier grave.
Besides the fact that most of the food there is amazingly well cooked, the fried mushrooms where some of the best I have ever had, and bottomless fries there was one more thing that almost killed me: bottomless drinks. Sure, most places offer that on soda, tea and water; Red Robin offers it on rootbeer floats. Most people who know me understand fully that I am not someone who really enjoys drinking soda with ice cream in it after making them for annoying and rude tourists for an entire summer at an A&W. But for the idea of basically bottomless rootbeer that I could get ice cream out of before my meal showed up I decided that I needed to make an attempt, to go the distance and see the number of floats one could muster down before needing to change to something less “containing the calories of an entire meal in one drink”-ish.
Also, just so you know that number of floats was two. Also I pretty much looked like this when my food showed up:
Just so we are all clear on this: I was in a food coma before my main course arrived. Somehow this place had made the concept of endless amounts of fresh fries brought to me endlessly for an endless time seem like a bad thing. I don’t know how they did it, but my guess is a mixture between the music that was playing and poison.
Normally Veronica yells at me when I ask if I can go to the car instead of waiting to deal with the waiter/ress again, as she sees it as me trying to “pull something” and it being annoying just to abandon her because I am done dealing with people. Oddly on this day she simply looked at me after a couple minutes of me having problems sitting upright and simply suggested that I go out to the car. I think that I found the amount of food that I need to eat to publicly embarrass her, a Red Robin amount.
I honestly don’t know why we stopped here. I asked Veronica not to, but she said something about needing cookies. I tried to explain that I had decided to never eat again because I had consumed enough calories to power the Sun for a couple of days and I was pretty sure that meant I was good for awhile. She did her, “I am going to pretend I was distracted by plastic on the ground and ignore him” thing so I don’t think that she had a good comeback to that.