Day 7: Memphis Belles

Nashville, TN to Memphis, TN

362 Miles

BG

RB

Memphis! What a city- a strange combination of the most beautiful southern belles and toothless hillbilly bitties. Guess which ones loved to dance? BG and I made our escape just in time to avoid buying them their Jimmy Dean breakfast smoothies. But I'm getting ahead of myself. 


We dined on catfish and some good ol' southern ribs, country cooking that set us off on a good night. Bill initiated some some grinding with some of the finest, three-toothed women in Tennessee. They wanted more, but a bunch o' 40 oz. beers and a bunch mo' shots of Jim Beam left us in no state to follow through. 


Waking up with some serious hangovers, we exited Memphis as quickly as we entered. However, both of us intend to return to Memphis as soon as possible. Tennessee is a very underrated state especially when you consider the amount of cute blonde women we saw.

Further thoughts on Memphis

We haggled a hotel room from a 16 year old Pakistani with a southern accent: "Thank you, come again, y'all."

We hit Beale Street packing big ass beers that you can take in and out of bars, making for one of my better pub crawls.

1.) The Rock Music bar- As we rolled in, a couple of girlies were rolling out with the lead guitarist in the band following, serenading them out the door, which led to him playing a solo in the streets. Awesome- we finished our big ass beers and went to the next bar.

2.) The R&B bar- The lead singer was cool, with shaved head and harmonica, but the real star of the band was the 400 lb. black bassist who could sing too. We were pretty drunk at this point, which meant that I was hitting on any girl in the room, which caused the girlies we were following to leave and go to the next bar. Unfazed, we drank more and kept on the hunt/warpath.

3.) Rockabilly Music Bar- On our journey to the next bar, we see an older gentleman, like about 60 years old, with a nice looking 25 year old girl in tow. The bartender and I exchanged a glance of "what the..." but then I realized that those are the best relationships. 


The girlie keeps the smooches coming in order to keep getting drinks, and the barnacle keeps the drinks coming in order to keep getting the smooches. He certainly did not seem interested in what she had to say, but he did seem like he wanted to impart some wisdom on her, which was probably in one ear and out the other.

Unfortunately, we lost the trail of Ladies' Night, and started walking down the wrong alley, of which there are many in Memphis by the way, so we turned around and started to stumble home, until...

4.) Hip-Hop/R&B covers bar- There's nothing quite like dancing with the drunkest black chick you can find chanting "You da Fucking Best" while the girl you were just dancing with glares at you with anger. Granted, she was probably even drunker, but she had less teeth, and your first priority in the club should always be to go for the girl with the most teeth. This bar also had the best music, as the band played over every song that came on the Top 40 radio. 

I had my heart set on the cutie with the XXL orange cotton tee that said "Cotton" on it first, then I got jungle fever and went after the wounded gazelle who got bored of me and went looking for someone to buy her another drink and/or take a nap. I then went for a cute sister who Rob had had no luck with earlier. 


Obviously my overall sense of caucasian style intrigued her, but she quickly lost interest once I ran out of dance moves and started busting out the Carlton swing.

Then it was time for the birthday song, and I cockblocked Rabbi again by snagging the cuter girl missing teeth.The DJ called the birthday girl up to the front of the club to strut, and, noticing a strapping young G like myself with her, had to ask the next most obvious question- who here is the most drunk?

The Most Drunk? That would be this guy. 

I had made an instant friend. Rob and I bailed on the bar once a bunch of crackers rolled in and started blowing up our spot. 

We checked back into heartbreak hotel, knocked down a shot of goodnight whiskey (probably not the best decision for Rob) and we played all 7 of the guitar chords we knew until we passed out.