I’ve made it to Florida and luckily will not have to do much driving for another 9 days. A little rainy now, but at least it is warm.
In Savannah Thursday night I started at the Pirate’s House, which is in a building that has been a bar since the 1700’s. In fact, the Pirate’s House was mentioned in Treasure Island as the pub that the pirate Captain Billy “Bones” Flint, who originally buried the treasure, died.
Apparently there is a tunnel downstairs that leads to the river, and the drunkest bar-goers would sometimes find themselves on a ship the next morning bound for far off destinations. It took one man two years to find his way back.
Coincidentally my bartender had a few waking up in strange places stories of his own. Though he has never seen a ghost in Pirate’s House, he did black out after a night of drinking, and wake up 4 hours away at a summer camp in the mountains. Turns out it was his idea to head up there with a lass the night before, but he passed out on the ride up. He awoke by himself (the ladies having gone to buy groceries) and wandered around the empty camp for an hour before finding out what had happened.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. He just remembers being aware enough to grab his passport before joining his boss and his boss’s pilot friend on a private flight to Mexico, where the pilot worked for a couple. But the pilot made it pretty clear, “I’m coming back in a week. You can’t call me for a flight, so enjoy!”
However the bartender’s poor mother couldn’t get in touch with him, and his roommates were no help to her: “I haven’t seen him since Monday. He stumbled in drunk and grabbed his passport”. After that, his mom routinely bought him prepaid phones that worked from anywhere he might wake up.
And how did he end up in Savannah, I asked? Well he woke up there after a drunken night of course! “I figured I would just stay the weekend, but I accidentally got a job and have been here ever since”. Ah yes, the accidental job acquisition. First world problems.
I continued on my way to check out what was happening along River Street. I was compelled to get a beer at The Warehouse advertising the cheapest and coldest beer in town. But alas, I will never know if their beer is cold or cheap. I always have my ID ready, but I was surprised to be asked for a second form. I gave the women behind the bar my gun licence, also a photo ID, obviously with the same name, address, birthday etc. But 30 puzzling seconds later I was still staring at her, staring at my ID.
I laughed, “I have a credit card too”, and handed that to her. Another 30 seconds of pouring over my three forms of identification, and she said, “sorry honey, I’ve seen plenty of Massachusetts ID’s. Just something not right, I can’t serve you”.
I know I look young, but I was shocked since this had never happened before. Did she really think I had a fake gun permit made to match my fake ID which had the same name as on my credit card? That would be some dedication.
I asked if there was someone else I could talk to but she was the manager. So I got up and did that thing where you look around for support from strangers. A nice older gentleman with his wife chimed in with an understanding chuckle, “My son in law is 50 and he still gets carded”. The ladies to my right looked at me and then quickly away, probably assuming I was actually underage.
I try not to complain, but seriously I am 25 years old and don’t think I should have to deal with that. So in solidarity with me, perhaps skip The Warehouse if you are ever in Savannah.
But there is always a silver lining. I ended up at a little bar down the street called Rusty Rudders, where I met some cool people, two from Savannah, two visiting. Both bartenders were very friendly and fun, and go figure, accepted my ID without hassling me.
Next post I’ll tell you about the auction in Florida I attended. (Spoiler alert: it included items such as a case of 60 bags of twizzlers that went for my $8 and two unwrapped pillows, one white, one off white that went for $15). And hopefully by then I will have even more checked off!