Something Smells Fishy
We're at the halfway point of our vacation. Though it hasn't all been exactly according to plan, we've been having a great time anyway.
The pool and beach are great, and our condo couldn't be more convenient with the kids. But outside of the complex, the Sandbridge area leaves a bit to be desired. For example, this is a shore town so we were expecting a bunch of fishmongers selling their "fresh off the boat" product. But there are only three around. Melissa and I drove to the first one, a plain shack of a building without even a sign out front. As we pulled into the empty parking lot our car was immediately surrounded by hound dogs. We didn't think we could get Little J out of the car without being attacked so we started turning around. As we did, a man came to the shack's door - toothless, neckless, hunched over and walking with a limp - and started waving for us to come in. You could practically hear the Deliverance banjos in the background.
We pulled out and drove to the second fishmonger. It looked exactly the same as the first so we just kept driving to our last hope least we be stuck with the Gordon's Fisherman. We pulled up and were relieved that it looked legit. We walked in the door with a spring in our step, eyed the counter full of fish and asked "what came in today?" Its a standard question you ask at these places (even though you know they're going to name whatever came in a week ago in hopes of moving it). Our anxiousness was returned with "I dunno." OooooooK, so what's locally caught? "I dunNO," this time with attitude. So we got some shrimp and left.
The rest of our dinners were take-out, which is a whole other post in itself.
The pool and beach are great, and our condo couldn't be more convenient with the kids. But outside of the complex, the Sandbridge area leaves a bit to be desired. For example, this is a shore town so we were expecting a bunch of fishmongers selling their "fresh off the boat" product. But there are only three around. Melissa and I drove to the first one, a plain shack of a building without even a sign out front. As we pulled into the empty parking lot our car was immediately surrounded by hound dogs. We didn't think we could get Little J out of the car without being attacked so we started turning around. As we did, a man came to the shack's door - toothless, neckless, hunched over and walking with a limp - and started waving for us to come in. You could practically hear the Deliverance banjos in the background.
We pulled out and drove to the second fishmonger. It looked exactly the same as the first so we just kept driving to our last hope least we be stuck with the Gordon's Fisherman. We pulled up and were relieved that it looked legit. We walked in the door with a spring in our step, eyed the counter full of fish and asked "what came in today?" Its a standard question you ask at these places (even though you know they're going to name whatever came in a week ago in hopes of moving it). Our anxiousness was returned with "I dunno." OooooooK, so what's locally caught? "I dunNO," this time with attitude. So we got some shrimp and left.
The rest of our dinners were take-out, which is a whole other post in itself.
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