The Archive

The other white house

Gosh, another morning with us up, bright and early with nary a hangover to be seen. Remarkable.

OK, Charlotte is now a done deal. It's time to move on.

But before we do, a quick breakfast at the fine dining establishment known as Waffle House (America's place to work. America's place to eat. America's place to call the cardiac team immediately).

Here we 'enjoyed' the traditional 10trillion calories for the day in a single meal...

"I'll have the salad. What does that come with?"
"Oh, the usual. Lettuce, tomata, mayo, sausage, hash browns, smoked bacon, unsmoked bacon, back bacon, side bacon, biscuit (note, this is a trick. It is in fact a scone), gravy, grits, beefburger and a stick of butter, deep fried in another stick of butter."
"Um, ok. How about the 'healthy option breakfast'?"
"That's the same, but without the mayo."

Still, it set us up for a nice drive to Richmond, the capital of the secessionist South (until, that is, they lost the war of course.)

But it was a few hours on I95 we soon became aware of Pedros.

Not, I should add, what Pedros was, but every mile or so on the road, there was a giant billboard letting us know something that Pedro had to say. Whatever the content, what Pedro had to say was, of course, "I am a huge, sombrero-wearing stereotype, but if you see enough of these ads, you'll be so worn down by the time you get here, you will stop at Pedroland."

Eventually, about three hundred roadside signs later, we arrived at the fabled Pedroland.

We did not stop at Pedroland.

It looked awful and deserted. However, online research since has revealed that in 1997 at least, 8million people stopped off there and presumably bought a sombrero-themed souvenir and some fireworks.

Clever Pedro.

(note - for another, rather more famous example of 'beat them into submission with roadsignage' marketing, see also Wall Drug. The common factor in the mysterious appeal of these otherwise dreadful 'attractions'? Location in absolutely the middle of nowhere. Frankly, people would stop at a turd on the side of the road to break up the boredom of the trip. "Turdland. Kids eat free.").

Right, sorry, that was a bit of a diversion wasn't it?

Anyway, we rolled into Richmond (Virginia, FYI) pretty much just in time for one sight before dinner.

Richmond, as I have mentioned, was the capital of the seceeded South. So, in their newly minted capital, they thought to themselves "We're going to need a white house."

So they set one up.

Eh? How unoriginal are these people? Yes, it's a capital, but every capital doesn't have to have a white house. Think for yourselves people. Show you're different.

Try a Green House. A Blue House. Or go right outside the box with a Tall House or a Round House. Or do what Bush did and make it a Monkey House.

Oh, then again, I've just thought about why they seceeded. I guess The White House was a pretty good choice after all.

So, as we've established, the South LOST the war, and but the victorious Washington decided not to destroy the city or the house itself.

Which was nice.

Anyway, that's all just ancient history now, and far less interesting than drinking, which we set out to do.

After a couple of nice beers in a small brewpub in which we invented a new TV show we're pretty sure is going to be a big hit (And Putin Makes Three, if you're interested) and developed a routine in which Nelson Mandela sings the songs of Guns and Roses (you have to hear this one to find it funny, but trust me, it is), we also found out a little about what to do in the city.

It being Monday night, our options were pretty limited. In fact, they were limited to

1. A quiet dinner
2. A strip bar owned by a man famed for a) stabbing someone and getting away with it and b) trying to open another strip bar across the road from the Children's Museum. Nice.
3. A sports bar where every Chet, Biff and Chad would be watching some college basketball.

It was a very nice dinner.

posted by Peter The Great @ 3:28 PM