Week 30: Love's Artifacts Bar and Grille - Less hoarding more cooking

Our imaginary house hunt continues, except this weekend we’ve actually managed to find an affordable house on Davis Island to look at. I love Davis Island and its yuppy atmosphere. It reminds me of Cape Cod in the sense that any resident of the island could probably afford to buy your life, yet they practice an imaginary low-maintenance lifestyle that includes local pubs, live music, a lack of shoes, and love for sailboats. Come Monday, they will all drive their luxury SUVs to work, to make the immense amount of money they will need just to pay their mortgages, since nothing else on the island costs anything. It appears as if everyone is constantly having an identity crisis and I like it.

I have already imagined myself becoming part of this community numerous times.  So much for wishful thinking though, because upon arriving at our “dream home” we realized that it was planted right next to a daycare in addition to having some other piece of commercial property as a backyard. I immediately lose interest despite the fact that my new pretend neighbors have Saabs as well. I want to fit in and join their parade of cookouts, fake boobs, and car seats but I also don’t want to be the cheapest one on the block.  Ryan seems to think the daycare would be noisy and busy all the time, but my primary concern is for stealing children. I love babies so much and sticking me in a house next to a daycare center while my biological clock is ticking just isn’t safe. Why would I stretch out my privates and give birth to 6 children when I could just walk next door and steal 6 perfectly cute white babies.

So now we’ve lost interest in the house we previously loved via the interwebs. Good thing there is a beautiful and unaffordable castle across the street for sale. We will set an appointment to see the inside of that house next weekend and revert back to our imaginary hunt. For now, we’re off to another great destination for white people: Marshall’s.  Marshall’s is a perfect clothing store for white suburban people yearning to be city slickers. You can purchase the hottest styles from last season and even a pair of pants with one leg longer than the other if you wish. Everything is always sale price and even if you only enjoy your new wardrobe for a few weeks that is fine, because chances are you will be able to return it. They also have great shoes, purses, and home décor. One would think it was Ryan’s birthday. I had a gift card for $100 and Ryan spent $70 of it. All I got was one top that Ryan keeps calling an “Indian smock.” That is fine, I will wear it with my other boyfriend; he is Indian.

Brunch time. We’re on our way to Love’s Artifacts Bar and Grille and I’m not too thrilled about it. We’ve been to Love’s once before and had a miserable meal but Ryan is full of forgiveness and believes that every restaurant deserves a second chance. It’s very Christian of him. My inner being is repeatedly saying screw ‘em and their shitstacks of food.

Love’s continually gets raving reviews but I genuinely wonder if these critics have ever actually eaten their food. Love’s atmosphere pulls at your heartstrings and has you believing you are sitting right in the middle of your grandmother’s living room (your grandmother who is a hoarder and doesn’t have air conditioning). Between the mismatched furniture, collection of eclectic shit everywhere, and the loving wait staff, you’ll never lack a warm and fuzzy feeling while dining at Love’s.

However, their food is another story. And so is their buffet brunch. If you’re into cold pancakes, room-temperature sausage gravy, runny eggs and having a limited selection when it comes to your breakfast options, then Love’s is your place. Regardless of the above, their tiny sausage links are fabulous, but so are the Jimmy Deans in my freezer. If the gravy was hot I would have smothered them and raped about 20.

Ryan loves their fried chicken, along with everyone else who visits Love’s. He also loves their bacon because it’s soft. I personally prefer mine erect. I tried the fried chicken and trust me, it’s something I’ve been struggling with all my life. It really is good and while I want to continue ripping the crispy meat off of its bone, I can’t get over my fear of accidently biting into a bone or getting a tiny chicken vein or tendon stuck between my teeth.

Normally I would make two or three trips up to the buffet but sadly I found myself content with one plate and not wanting any more. Again, Love’s has failed me. Good thing we’ve got a coupon for dinner at Blue Dog’s Bistro…