Charlotte, my Charlotte.

Our mural, complete with cast signatures!  I love how this turned out.

Our last days in St. Louis were nothing if not eventful.  We hit the City Museum, which is like Neverland for adults minus the flying.  Instead, you crawl through caves, mazes, tunnels, tubes, ball pits, and gauntlets to make your way down ten-story slides.  See that silver tube-like structure under the airplane?  I crawled through that and one even higher above it - we're talking at least 8 stories up.

Here's a slide caged with spinning railings:

Me and my roomie Sam celebrating our achievements (I wish I had pictures of us going through the different obstacles, but I didn't want to risk dropping my phone off the top of a building):

Meditating in the bar area (yes, there's a bar area at night):

And enjoying an icee pop that took me back to my 11th birthday hardcore:

After tearing through every nook and cranny of the place (thanks to our very enthusiastic built-in tour guide and life coach, Geo), we decided to scan the surrounding area for some grub.  We first headed to White Castle, which I was thrilled to find closed.  Then we headed to this little hole in the wall:

Yes, friends.  The Eat Rite diner.  Roughly the size of a large changing room at Bloomingdales, this place was the creme de la creme of dive diners.  Greasy and full of questionable patrons, it boasted a delightfully cheap menu and two charming old pinball machines in the corners.

The staff was appropriately surly and sweet depending on who they dealt with:

They even insisted that Brad order the "Slinger," which was listed simply as "Meat, 2 Eggs, + Potatoes, topped with Chili, Cheese, and Onions."  Needless to say, it was Eat Rite today, feel wrong tomorrow.

On our way out, there was a gorgeous, mint condition car just begging for a photo op:

I'm pretty sure that with a few more minutes in this pose, I would have had the cast of Grease rolling up demanding pink slips and wielding bleach and toothbrushes.

St. Louis also brought my first friendly face to the house:

Devin!  My roomie from home's little brother.  So nice to see someone from home... even if he isn't technically from New York.  That's where we met, so it counts.

After our closing performance in St. Louis, the gracious and exceedingly generous Doug Sills took us out for a delicious dinner at the local Schlafly Brewery.  (Please note the "Plate of Swine" dish on the menu.)

Here's Gil with a mind-blowing Pumpkin Ale on tap.  It smelled like fall and tasted even better.

Later that night: BOWLING.  I was the "W" for "Watermelondria."  Don't hate.

Doug then suggested that the eight of us ride home in his four-door mini.  Results below:

Note that I was scrunched against a door handle which was pressing into my City Museum bruises from the day before:

Ah, St. Louis.  I'll miss your stunning theatre and huge audiences... your crazy adult playground and your surprisingly delicious local brews... but its time to move to a new town.  One where the hotel doesn't give me allergic reactions and force me to take steroids and anxiety pills.  (Yes, really.)

Next stop: CHARLOTTE, North Carolina.  Where there are Tornado shelters in the airport.

Well, technically that was in our transfer port of Atlanta, but this glass of Gewurztraminer was in Charlotte!

Reasons to love this town?  First of all, we're staying at the Residence Inn, which was full fridges, stove ranges, dishwashers, and A FIRE PIT AND GRILL:

Gil may have enjoyed a cigarette, but the ladies were more interested in vino and s'mores:

Charlotte means groupies:

Charlotte means cooking again at last:

And Charlotte means... CHICK-FIL-A!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

We were so excited about having access to this poultry heaven that I painted Sam's mole to be the symbol of the chain:

I don't know how we're going to top this particular mole, but Charlotte is certainly shaping up to be a better town that we'd expected.  More adventures to follow...