Fumbling Towards Hell
Since I am moving soon, I was very fortunate to be able to spend an entire day with Zae, one of my closest friends from my time here in Kalamazoo. After dining on the delectable deliciousness which is Taco Bob's (http://www.tacobobs.com Taco Bob's is a froggin' awesome eatery on the Kalamazoo Open Mall!) and hanging out at my apartment for a bit (http://www.cryingwhileeating.com) and taking pictures of one of us in a fancy gown, we decided to go to a place I have been meaning to travel to since moving out here:
We decided to have dinner in Hell. Hell, Michigan.
Hell, Michigan (not to be confused with the Hell I incur in knowing that Koala Bears are so adorable, but for some reason also have to be so very far away from me) is a small town located about ninety minutes away from Kalamazoo. There is a history and novelty behind the town (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hell,_Michigan#History), too. I just wanted to go because it seemed like a neat idea to dine in Hell, and also satisfied my desire to take a car trip with Zae (we had intended to a few times, but she couldn't get off of work....stupid monkeys...). I was glad she came; I really wanted Zae to go to Hell.
And I still want to go to Hell, Michigan, since we never made it there. On the way, Zae ordered me to pull over and then had her way with me until we both fell asleep from exhaustion.
(yeah, she wishes that happened!)
Actually, we didn't make it to Hell, Michigan because we could not find Hell, Michigan. We had directions from Mapquest (http://www.pieceofshit.com), but there was a detour on the way to Hell (does that mean we wound up in purgatory?). We stopped at a grocery store, where two ladies gave us very different directions when they sent us to Hell. As it turns out, the town of Hell, Michigan is close to the town of Howell, Michigan, just to make it ever so much more eventful to try to go to Hell. Also, Hell, Michigan is very close to Mt. Hope and Pleasant Lake, for some damn absurd reason, and the town line to Hell, Michigan apparently begins at a Methodist Church (see previously cited reason).
But, again, we got lost (or the ladies just gave us horrid directions) and just could not manage to go to Hell. So, we did the next best thing: We stopped at a Bob's Big Boy restaurant in Chelsea, Michigan. Being that the day had been so hot that we both wished for air conditioning, it was appropriate that on our trip to Hell we had our wish granted in the form of an arctic-like temperature in the restaurant. Zae ordered chili, and was dismayed that it turned out that not only did they not serve her chili, but that the waitress explained it after taking our order by carrying a bag of red slime while saying "this is all I could find." So, Zae had cheese soup (isn't that just melted cheese?) and a baked potato, while I ate some chicken dish which prompted me to ask aloud several times "what is this thing over here on my plate?" Later, I would wonder why Zae did not dip the tortillas from my meal (which she ate, while not enjoying them, again appropriate for a trip to Hell) into her cheese soup. I would quickly stop wondering about this, though, as it was a stupid thing to waste my time wondering about.
After dinner on this trip toward Hell, Zae immediately found herself wanting for McDonald's french fries. And lo, there was a McDonald's closeby, and it was good (except for the part where Zae felt ill from all the crappy food in her gullet...then I served her Tirmasu later, which probably didn't help). Fortunately, we did get the following undoctored pictures while in the McDonald's drive-thru:
Seems appropriate for a trip to Hell, don't they?
(also appropriate for such a trip, I felt really sad after I dropped Zae off and had to say good-bye for who-knows-how-long...but that's for another blog posting.....)
We decided to have dinner in Hell. Hell, Michigan.
Hell, Michigan (not to be confused with the Hell I incur in knowing that Koala Bears are so adorable, but for some reason also have to be so very far away from me) is a small town located about ninety minutes away from Kalamazoo. There is a history and novelty behind the town (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hell,_Michigan#History), too. I just wanted to go because it seemed like a neat idea to dine in Hell, and also satisfied my desire to take a car trip with Zae (we had intended to a few times, but she couldn't get off of work....stupid monkeys...). I was glad she came; I really wanted Zae to go to Hell.
And I still want to go to Hell, Michigan, since we never made it there. On the way, Zae ordered me to pull over and then had her way with me until we both fell asleep from exhaustion.
(yeah, she wishes that happened!)
Actually, we didn't make it to Hell, Michigan because we could not find Hell, Michigan. We had directions from Mapquest (http://www.pieceofshit.com), but there was a detour on the way to Hell (does that mean we wound up in purgatory?). We stopped at a grocery store, where two ladies gave us very different directions when they sent us to Hell. As it turns out, the town of Hell, Michigan is close to the town of Howell, Michigan, just to make it ever so much more eventful to try to go to Hell. Also, Hell, Michigan is very close to Mt. Hope and Pleasant Lake, for some damn absurd reason, and the town line to Hell, Michigan apparently begins at a Methodist Church (see previously cited reason).
But, again, we got lost (or the ladies just gave us horrid directions) and just could not manage to go to Hell. So, we did the next best thing: We stopped at a Bob's Big Boy restaurant in Chelsea, Michigan. Being that the day had been so hot that we both wished for air conditioning, it was appropriate that on our trip to Hell we had our wish granted in the form of an arctic-like temperature in the restaurant. Zae ordered chili, and was dismayed that it turned out that not only did they not serve her chili, but that the waitress explained it after taking our order by carrying a bag of red slime while saying "this is all I could find." So, Zae had cheese soup (isn't that just melted cheese?) and a baked potato, while I ate some chicken dish which prompted me to ask aloud several times "what is this thing over here on my plate?" Later, I would wonder why Zae did not dip the tortillas from my meal (which she ate, while not enjoying them, again appropriate for a trip to Hell) into her cheese soup. I would quickly stop wondering about this, though, as it was a stupid thing to waste my time wondering about.
After dinner on this trip toward Hell, Zae immediately found herself wanting for McDonald's french fries. And lo, there was a McDonald's closeby, and it was good (except for the part where Zae felt ill from all the crappy food in her gullet...then I served her Tirmasu later, which probably didn't help). Fortunately, we did get the following undoctored pictures while in the McDonald's drive-thru:
Seems appropriate for a trip to Hell, don't they?
(also appropriate for such a trip, I felt really sad after I dropped Zae off and had to say good-bye for who-knows-how-long...but that's for another blog posting.....)
posted by CMA @ 9:16 PM
2 Comments:
At 2:55 PM,
Rama said…
You'd think it'd be easier to get to Hell. Unlesss, of course, it's a place you don't belong, then you should probably be thankful you couldn't find it.
At 2:42 PM,
Anonymous said…
Of course, one would not think it would be so hard to get into Hell, but being a native of Chelsea, and having only stumbled upon Hell once or twice, I can assure you that it isn't easy to find, and it is VERY easy to miss! You should have taken an aboriginal tour guide (me). Better luck next time. If you are in Chelsea again, the very BEST lunch place is Mike's Deli, downtown. The classiest restaraunt is the Common Grill, also downtown. And Cleary's Pub is the best local hangout for beer, grub, and good company. But again, only a native would know. Love, Jan
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