1/2 a Bird

Skip and I are trying something different to our traveling, and after a few days of this test-run it feels like I am caught in a vortex between Atlanta and Skip's starting points for the day. Each day though we keep getting closer and closer to Atlanta, like a pair of mariners who are circling a whirlpool with the flotsam and jetsam our travels have created.

We made it to our host's flat yesterday evening, and after dropping off some of our things we ventured back out into Midtown for a late meal. Our host had directed us to a Tex-Mex place with cheap food, but on the way there we saw a place we could not pass: Fat Matt's BBQ. Skip and I walked in and the smell of smoked and grilled meat made both of our stomachs grumble and our mouths water. The menu was on the wall right in front of us and looked something like this:

1/4 slab
1/2 slab

1/4 bird
1/2 bird

"rum" beans
sweet potato pie

sweet tea
coke

There wasn't much else to the menu. We smiled at each other. Skip ordered the 1/2 slab of ribs and I ordered a 1/2 bird for dinner. We sat down at a table and looked around the place. There were some tables, and a stage was at the end opposite of where we were sitting. Pictures of blues musicians lined the walls. Behind the stage, there was a rendition of Mt. Rushmore, only with the blues greats instead of the Presidents.

When the food came we didn't need silverware--I don't think we even bothered to unwrap it from the napkins. The bone pulled right out of his slab and my bird. I haven't had meat that tender since [There are so many ways I want to end this sentence. Less for taste and decency and more for the fact that I want to retain my summer job, I will leave your imaginations to finish the sentence for me].