Week 17: A-SUE-Ming We Grow Old…

Week 17: A-SUE-Ming We Grow Old…

Lately I love him more. I dunno if it’s his newly waxed chest, or the fact that he drank soy sauce through a straw last night at dinner. He makes me happy and with every move he makes I find myself thinking “wow he really is weird.” This is off topic, but whenever I come across a kiwi, I eat it with its furry skin on. It’s like biting into a tiny hamster every time, yet it never gets old or disgusting. Ryan does not do this, but I often envision him getting closer and closer…until someday, he really is as weird as me.

Either way, I’m fortunate he’s stuck around so long because he’s attempting to make me a better person. I don’t know if he’ll ever succeed, but earlier this week I really let my inner masshole come out. Frustrated with the lack of common sense, customer service, education and honesty surrounding Tech 1 Engines of Tampa, I had really lost my mind. I went 16 days without my car and my anger really got the best of me. I thought it was a good idea to let them know how I really felt about them…. So I got down on their level, went outside barefoot and taught them what a “fucktard” was. I also let them know that if I see them again they will be guilty of murder in addition to shitty service because I will legitimately kill myself.

Well, I’m here… so I didn’t kill myself… but I’ll let you know it didn’t end to my advantage. Ryan, being the bigger and better person in my life played mediator and explained to them that there was clearly a lack of communication and that their business had immense room for improvement. While it’s all relevant and true, I found it much more hilarious to act like a raging trailer park druggy for one day of my life. Believe it or not, there was a feeling of empowerment and pride associated with the unpleasant string of events. I felt like I won… despite being robbed of my money, precious time and dignity. Oh well.

So, the car issues are behind us and we’re on our way to Sue’s Country Kitchen in Seffner. I don’t know if I’ve ever been to Seffner, but the name alone creeps me out. It sounds like an STD of some sort, doesn’t it? I looked up Seffner on UrbanDictionary.com and the dictionary defines it as: “The worst place to live in Florida. Drug capital of Hillsborough. Also known as Methner.” The sample sentence they provide says: “Seffner is known for its many meth labs, and the ability to get any drug anywhere. Seffner also sucks.”

So yea, we’re in Seffner. But I am well aware that the best food often comes from establishments off the beaten path. So I’m not afraid. Nothing scares me after showing Tech 1 Engines who’s boss. When we walk in an extremely blonde lady screams HEWWO! HOW AH YOU??  Little did I know I’d have to hear that approximately 25 more times before leaving. I’m not quite sure what kind of accent it was- maybe Seffner has their own. But it didn’t get old. She was the nicest, sweetest lady ever. We were fortunate to get her as a server because our alternative was a woman with a mullet and when I’m uncomfortable or amazed I often stare in disbelief.

There were antiques everywhere. They kept me fascinated the entire time. I kept wondering what things were and then Ryan would teach me. Ryan knew what everything was because he grew up on a farm or somewhere outside of the big city where kids like me used electronics. Or I dunno, maybe he was just brought up normally and I was the spoiled outcast. I remember getting a cell phone in 6th grade and even getting a custom designed blue shell for it that matched my bedroom.  It’s no wonder I moved to Florida and no one has since wished me back or relocated to be with me. Hrm.

Sue’s has a buffet but for once in my life I’m not really interested. Ryan tackled that thing like a true man but I patiently waited for one of their infamous skillets that the interwebs boast about.

While waiting for my food I can’t help but notice that there are old men everywhere. They gross me out. I know that I’ll be old someday but I just can’t fathom the reality of it all right now and if you’re not my grandma or grandpa I need you to get the hell away from me.  Hearing aids, obesity, bifocals and velcro bound shoes. What a life.

Ryan’s been eating for a good 15 minutes and while he keeps trying to feed me his buffet food I want to respect Sue. Whoever she is. I didn’t pay for that buffet so Ryan needs to be the one that eats its unlimited glory. He eats smoked sausage, sausage links, country fried bacon, regular bacon, country fried steak and gravy, biscuits and gravy, ham cubes, fruit, French toast, pudding, fried eggs, toast, and more.

Finally, my steak skillet. Holy shit this thing is a monster.  No really, it’s a monster. It’s about 3 pounds of food and I risk getting tennis elbow if I dare move it. The onions and potatoes are amazing. Greased to perfection. However, the steak sucks. It’s extremely chewy and flavorless. C’mon SUE! Luckily, I’m enjoying myself so much that I don’t care about the food. It’s amazing how a great atmosphere and time can have you thinking that you are actually enjoying the food.

I point out an awesome antique stove and Ryan says he’d love to put smith and smeigle (my cats) in it. Rather than scold him, I quickly agree and the conversation goes awfully south:

Me: YUP! Just like a little kitty holocaust!

Ryan: I would absolutely eat a cat if it were raised on pulled pork. But it’s bullshit–we just aren’t allowed to experiment. People do it with cows…so what’s the big deal?

Me: I would love to have a cow with you some day babe. A female though, so we don’t put our children at the risk of being accidently mounted by a bull.

Ryan: Once it get’s old we can kill it in front of the kids to show them how the world works: you love, you raise, you slaughter, you eat!

I look around and pray to god no one has heard this conversation, but based on this restaurant’s clientele and immense amount of meat consumption, I doubt any of it matters. Ahh, finally some diversity has walked in the door. A Mexican Man wearing Sketchers Shape Ups… why do these things keep reappearing in the Meatball Chronicles and why is this man trying to have a Kim Kardashian ass?

It’s time to leave. Sue’s has attempted being a real country kitchen complete with a country store but the selection is just outrageous. At the checkout stand, they’re selling toilet paper, deodorant, body wash, blistex, flints, pocket knifes and a cologne set. How exactly does this all work? Does Sue really have customers that come to the realization that they smell like a dumpster during breakfast and say “OH THANK GOD THEY SELL COLOGNE HERE.”  You know what they also sell? Milkshakes. And they are 100% delicious and necessary. We order two to go: strawberry and cookies n’ cream.

Right as we were leaving, someone calls our waitress SUE. THAT’S SUE!?!?! I MET SUE!?!? I tell Ryan we were served by the owner and he asks how I know. “Well, assuming that it’s not just a coincidence, someone called her SUE!”  Ryan bursts out laughing “a-SUE-ming!”  Oh man, that just isn’t funny. At all.

Well Ryan, a-SUE-ming we grow old…..I would like a cow, an antique stove, and a milkshake. Please.

Sue's Country Kitchen on Urbanspoon

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