From MA to NY, an Adventure: Day 2

My next day, Friday, found me pretty slothful during the day. Although it was pleasant outside, I found myself more in the mood to not leave the comfort of my pajamas. The evening was a very different story. The three of us got ourselves all pretty and we went out to North Hampton, specifically, the Tunnel Bar. I fear that the space was too dark for pictures, but I hope my description will suffice. The bar is, quite literally, an old tunnel. Walking in, you find yourself looking down the length of a windowless, creamy tiled, arching interior that just seems to keep flying backward. We found ourselves some oversized leather chairs in the very back and set to the business of drinking while sharing excellent conversation. The lighting was dim, but the martini that I had (Gone with the Wind) was a delicious mix of whiskey and peach that quite satisfied my sweet tooth without being overtly sugary. Persephone had a strange blue concoction called the Tarantula, while SexyHistorian settled for something that I think had Hibiscus in the name. I happily sipped my drink, truly more elated to be in the company of two of my favorite people, such as I had not been for far too long. As is wont to happen after a good drink, we were all viciously hungry. SexyHistorian pointed us to Local which specializes in supremely delicious junk/drunk food cuisine. I myself consumed a most unbelievably good burger known as the Juicy Lucy. Rather than the burger having the cheese on top, the cheese is cooked into the burger. Thus, the consumer is faced with gooey, dripping puddles of fat-filled cheesy glory throughout the entire experience. Persephone attacked a basket of fries with understandable abandon, and SexyHistorian had some chicken fingers. Overall, we were satiated in that way that you can only be after greasy deliciousness on the heels of a strong drink. We made our way back to the apartment, and promptly fell into our respective sleeping receptacles because we all had an early morning for Saturday.

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