I got kind compulsive about blogging for a while, basically between 2009 and 2011. Or I got compulsive about food. I mean, I was always compulsive about food, which is a running battle (and you know what they say, never get into a land war in Asia), but once I started writing about what I ate, I felt more and more like I had to try new things. Which I love. Love. Still do. And that's why I finished my meetings in Dallas as soon as possible and sped at extraordinary speed down to the south side of town to what looked like the closest great barbeque place available. One thing about great barbeque is that you have to suspend disbelief. It certainly looks like hell, with all that blackened mean just sitting around waiting to get chopped to order.
All the sides are just in a cooler to the right of the counter where you order and get your food. I know that's Texas-style. Not sure how I feel about it.
The only drawback here was that I started realizing after only a couple minutes how I was already getting late for my flight and hit the road with half of my meat re-wrapped. Let me make a note to myself of my driving exploits for future entertainment - pretty sure that cop at the entrance to the airport was going to pull me over, but I floored it, took the exit to the rental cars, and slammed through a bunch of dodgy turns to make sure Smokey wasn't on my tail.
Watch ol' Bandit run!