To finish recounting our fabulous weekend in Palacios, I’m picking up where I left off. 

The three of us managed to sleep through the night on Friday, although Daddy had some weird dreams where there were rats running all around.  Baby claims that Daddy and I talked/mumbled throughout the night, but I don’t remember a thing.  Thank you, Tylenol PM.

We woke up around 8:30 or so, and we didn’t waste anytime… we got up and out of the hotel as quickly as you can say bedbugs.  After scoping out the complimentary breakfast options of the Luther (Cheerios, milk, orange juice), we decided to walk into/through town to find the Donut Palace.  Baby had been craving donuts for three weeks and I think the Luther-induced depression we all were dealing with gave way to some emotional eating.  We each got a breakfast taco, kolache and a donut.  Breakfast of champions.

We finished eating around 10 and realized we had 6 hours to kill until the wedding.  What to do, what to do?  Normally it wouldn’t be a tough decision, but when you are in Palacios and staying at the Luther, things like shopping and napping aren’t really attractive options.  So, we decided to just start walking.  We walked back to the hotel and along the water.  We even did about 30 seconds of P90X, jumping along a little pier of rocks. 

Around 11, it dawned on me that I needed to check out of my cabin and get checked into my new/real room for the night.  Bill’s wife was at the front desk when we returned to the hotel and informed me that my room was actually a suite.  Sweet, I thought.  Maybe it will be decent. 

Shaaa right.  It was in fact a suite – three rooms, two bathrooms and a kitchen.  But, it was far from decent.  And I think the fact that it was larger made it a little more creepy for just one person.  I think had Mary made the trip, we would have shared the same bed.  After much deliberation with Daddy, we decided I would try to get out of this reservation and just stay with them another night.  I hadn’t given them my credit card yet, so all I needed was a good excuse. 

We went back down to the lobby where I met Bill’s wife and proceeded to explain my new dilemma.  You see, I didn’t realize that suite would be so big, and since it’s just me staying, I don’t want to take up three beds if I’m only going to use one.  I talked to some friends who are renting a beach house and they said there was room for me to stay.  So, I want to give my room back if I could.  I’m sure there will be others who might need that much room tonight.  Obviously the last line was total B.S.  Bill’s wife wasn’t pleased with the news I delivered and responded sternly with, “We couldn’t rented this room TEN TIMES already.  I’m going to talk to Bill about this.”

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We waited in the lobby for a few minutes before Bill arrived on the scene.  He was much more cool and collected than his wife, and agreed to let me out of my reservation for the night, so long as I paid $50 bucks for Friday night’s stay in the cabin (what he figured the room was worth).  I obliged.  He wasn’t worried about the suite staying empty, “I’ll get that room rent out no problem”.  I thought to myself, whatever dip$hit.

After moving my suitcase back to the Magnolia, I came downstairs to find a family of four at the front desk signing for the keys to my recently available suite.  He rented that crap hole out in 10 minutes.  Jokes on me, I thought.  I don’t know what kind of shenanigans go down in Palacios on a regular basis, but this family had stayed here before.  And. came. back.  They originally requested to stay out in the slave quarters rooms, because they had really liked them before, but Buffalo Bill said they weren’t renting them out anymore.  Who were these people, I thought.  Daddy took the liberty of reminding us that we were all very fortunate.  Point.

During all this time in the lobby, we picked up a visitor’s guide to Palacios.  It listed the major “attractions” and place to eat.  We decided to set out, see some of the places and cruise.  After about 15 minutes, we had crossed about 82% of the items off the list.  Realizing we needed to do a better job at k.i.l.l.i.n.g. t.i.m.e., we stopped at a convenient store and grabbed some brewskis.  I believe the time was around noon.

We drove by to see Courtney’s house and then we drove out to see the shrimpin’ boats.  And of course take some pictures.  This one was for Mary…

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After all this activity, we decided to go grab lunch at the Outrigger (which was casually mispronounced all weekend, imagine that).  We were pleasantly surprised when we walked in, the joint was nice.  It was clean.  It didn’t smell.  We’re in business, we thought.  Being extremely joyful, we decided to make friends with our waitress and get her take on what’s up with this town.  She quickly informed us that she wasn’t from around here and that she came from a very rich family.  A couple of things, rich people a) don’t have to declare they are rich,  b) don’t wait tables at a place called the out*igger (whoopsies, did it again), and c) usually don’t have dirt underneath their fingernails. 

We asked how late they’d be open, thinking we might come by later for some post wedding festivities.  She said, “oh if we’re really having a busy night, we’ll stay open until 9″.  WHAT?  You have to close at 9?  Major letdown for us. 

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We finished our shrimp and catfish, then headed back to the Luther to “clean” up.   Although, I don’t know how clean you can get there, especially when you forget to pack your shower shoes.  Ick.

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