Nashville

My least favorite place is Gatlinburg.  And Nashville has to rank in my bottom 10. Ugh.  But I was so happy to go here to celebrate a friend's birthday.  Even though I don't like country music, or loud music, or drinking, or other people drinking. And as I would find out I also don't like redneck comedy Christmas bus tours.

If you were to zoom in, you would see that 90% of the revelers are bachelorette parties and girls' weekends-roving gangs of young women in impossibly tiny dresses and skirts wearing impossibly stiff brand-new cowboy boots.

Why I made Betsy take this bathroom pic-no idea but it seemed very important at the time.

Can we go home now that I have proof, I left the house and did a thing.

The best thing in Nashville-this skinny mirror in a small cafe we found.  

How we ended up in this Cracker Barrel instead of our fancy diner reservation is the stuff of legends.

So, I was led to believe I was going on a Christmas Lights tour.  That was not the case.

I went on a Redneck Comedy Bus Tour.  Redneck "comedy" is low hanging fruit indeed.  All you need are some silly clothes and a few zingers about women, gay folks, and the democrats.... voila, you're a comedian. 

To enhance the trip an very intoxicated young man seated behind us vomited often during the two hour ride. I would have gladly uber'd home at any point.  But, for fear of being rude, we all put on our best game faces and toughed it out.  Later commiserating that we wish we had uber'd home.

What in the love of Father Christmas....we picked him up along the way. 

Not the "redneck" but the rando Rudolph.

Smiling, is it over yet?