Monday, August 14, 2006

Texas Town of Lies Part 1

The date: August 12. The time: 9 a.m. After raising the Husband, who glared at me through one eye as he shoveled cereal into his mouth, we were getting ready to go. I loaded up the bags into the car and waited impatiently as he made his rounds about the house. Growling and grumbling, complaints such as "don't want to leave my house" and "sleepy, so tired" floated past my ears. By the time we made it into the car, it was after ten. Still, nothing could dampen my excitement.

We had delayed our honeymoon for several months. After failing to go on two weekends, I had finally booked a time. We had a hotel room, I had a plan. I had researched restaurants and shops and created an itinerary. I had scouted out the best pool in the land. All with the help of my trusty friend, the Internet.

What I didn't know, as we raced down the highway, was that this town was not what it seemed. This town that seemed so quaint, so charming- this cute Texas town- was nothing more than a lie. A facade. A cover up for a plot so heinous it is unforgivable.

We reached our destination at lunch time. Ben was growling because he was hungry. He is a homebody of homebodies, and leaving is not his favorite past time. When he is hungry, he is apt to rip someone's arm off for suggesting the wrong thing. So my first mission was to feed him. I began to list off restaurants, starting with the Peach Tree Inn. The Peach Tree Inn had advertised healthy soups, salads and sandwiches. As Ben loves soup, I thought it was like a little soup bar. When I mentioned it, he curled his lip up at me.

"Chick food?" he said disdainfully. "I don't do chick food. Isn't there anywhere I want to eat?"

irritated at his lack of appreciation for my itinerary, I listed off a few more manly places. After getting a recommendation from the lady at the gas station, Ben drove to the Peach Tree Inn. First, he circled it slowly.

"I'm staking out the joint," he said warily, looking through narrowed eyes. "This looks like yuppie granola chick food. Are you sure you want to eat here?"

"They said they had yummy soup," I said, sighing. "We can look at a menu."

"I'm hungry," Ben growled. "I don't want to drive around all day looking for a restaurant." He sighed and parked the car on the sidewalk. We went into the dainty looking building, which looks dmore like a cottage than a restaurant. Inside, two elderly women were standing behind a dainty stand. I immediately knew this wasn't good and I was about to suffer the Wrath of Ben. I grabbed a menu and scanned through it quickly. I saw overpriced sandwiches with ingredients I couldn't pronounce. Their "soups" were limited to a soup of the day at $4 for a small bowl. Their salads were stuffed with all sorts of weird weeds and things. It was not a good thing. But before I could stop him, Ben had told the hostess to get us a table. I grabbed his arm in alarm as she toddled off to check availability.

"Honey, you don't want to eat here," I muttered.

"WHAT?" Ben said loudly, trying to hear me.

"Ready?" the frail woman appeared at the doorway, menus in hand.

"Excuse us," Ben said, pulling me off to the side. "She got a phone call. It's an emergency."

I pulled him outside, where he was huffing with exasperation. "What?

"They lied," I said earnestly. "It's all a lie. The sandwiches are weird, there's hardly any soup and the salads are full of weeds. You can't eat here. We have to go somewhere else. I can't eat here."

Ben sighed dramatically and threw up his hands.

"Fine", he said. "You go tell them to cancel our table."

I informed the hostess, who barely nodded at me as she began to seat a party of 5. We loaded back into the car and drove back down to the main street, which is where all the shops and restaurants were. We found a parking spot and walked to a restaurant/brewery. When we walked in, it looked homey. Huge copper kegs lined the wall, and dozens of tourists and families filled the tables. Ben looked delighted.

We were seated and sat down to study the menu. It was filled with hamburgers, sandwiches and all sorts of things. Ben was in heaven. He ordered a beer and a hamburger and set about devouring it like it would jump off his plate.


"Now this is a good restaurant," he said happily, grinning at me through a mouthful of french fries and bread. "You just have to feed me or else I get cranky. That's your job. " He continued to inhale his food like a Hoover vacumn.

I inhaled my chicken club, which was good. At the time, I thought we would be eating out for the next two days, so I didn't want to eat too heavy of a meal. Little did I know that things were about to take a turn for the worse.........

Stay tuned for Part 2 tomorrow