Please Pass the Shrimp Flavored Pancakes

*** continued from previous post ***

Anyway, we were tail lights. I navigated down the steep gravel road. Carefully. Painstakingly. At the bottom of the lane, ever hopeful that maybe they've built a IHOP while we were at the Tomb of the Alcoholic Simians, I stop the bike and ask Mom, "Hey, forgot to ask but did you see any place to get breakfast? I mean, before we went to Zombie-ville. Am I missing something?"

"No. Not really," she replies, somewhat cryptically.

"Yeah, me either."

As I search the clutter that is my mind for a solution to our current dilemma something tickles the recesses of my brain. I ponder Mom's phrasing. "What do you mean 'not really'?"

"Well, there was one place back where we filled up with gas. It was a seafood place I think, but the sign said 'Seafood and Pancakes".

Sure that I mis-heard her, I asked, a tad more abruptly than I had intended, "What the hell? Seafood AND Pancakes?"

She squeezed her new friend, Mr. Rock, a little too hard for my comfort. "It was that fast-food looking place across from the gas station."

My stare must have said it all. Somewhat, although not fully apologetic she said, "There was a motorcycle out front." As if this solved everything. As if since there was another person on a bike willing to gamble on what I could only imagine were shrimp-flavored pancakes, then since we were on a bike, it should be good enough for us as well.

My eyes narrowed. I believe that my stare is a laser, piercing, cutting. I catch a glimpse of myself reflected in her helmet. I look like I've had a minor stroke.

"Seafood and Pancakes?", I snort, "I'm not that hungry." I eyed her suspiciously. What was her game? Had an empty stomach and a long trip put her in a place where SHE was willing to try a 'Seafood and Pancake' place? Where was my wife? Oh Canada, what have you wrought? What madness have you visited upon my bride?

"Well, we always have crackers." She shrugged. A calculated pause and then, "We would have had more, but you packed light."

Touche', good lady. Touche'. I am suspect that we are seeing the birth of a recurring theme. Trying to nip this in the bud I say, "I understand that I may have cut back on the food items a bit too much. My apologies."

"Maybe a little. Too late now though."

I was plunged into the depths of despair, sure that I was about to experience the 'French Toast Calamari', or 'Cold Oyster Cereal' or the horror of 'Scrambled Fish Eggs'. Then - inspiration!!! "Hey! Sweet Alice will show us where we can find a restaurant! I completely forgot that she'll list all the local amenities!" I was giddy. Mom was relieved. Technology was once again our savior!

"Oh, so you and Sweet Alice have made up?"

I pause. "We've come to an agreement. An understanding if you will."

"Well, I'm happy for you both. Send me a card when you announce your engagement."

Deciding that this is a conversation best left for a time when my blood sugar was not in the basement, I pulled up the menu on the GPS, punched some info into menu and sure enough, Sweet Alice's screen spit out a list of places to eat.


*** the journey continues tomorrow. Comments are always welcome. ***