Except for visiting Emory in Atlanta a handful of times during college, I haven't really been to the south at all, so when I visited my first Waffle House, I was highly amused and enthralled by the various accents that greeted me when I stepped into the fast food eatery.
I am probably the only person that goes to Bonnaroo and comes back with not one festival picture, but shots of Waffle House, shots of a Tennessee bbq spot that I searched out, and...well yeah.
Things that happened at Bonnaroo include me meeting a 25-year old boy scout (year, those actually exist), me meeting a crazy guy that talked about his brilliant movie script that involved a dog president and poisonous pinto beans, and bomb dumplings from Vermont that I discovered amidst various fried food stands.
Moral of the story? Bonnaroo is the bomb, go, but make sure you bring your rain boots.
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1 comments:
I would do the exact same thing. If there happens to be music, fine. But ultimately it's a food trip.
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