Spirits and Spirits in Savannah
ONE-SHOT
We stopped in Savannah, Georgia on our way to our new home in Florida. We were 112% sure Savannah is in the southern part of Georgia, but we couldn’t seem to get out of South Carolina. We were ten miles away from our destination, but still in South Carolina. Was Georgia only a 10-minute drive through? It was not. Savannah is like literally the most northern town in Georgia.
All the beer there was flat. They were all afraid of foam! The bartender had to explain that the locals hate it. I asked if I could have a new beer with some foam and she said that she was not allowed to poor beers with foam. I am an avid watcher of Bar Rescue, so I am what you would call an expert. If you don’t get any foam with your pour, the CO2 stays trapped in the beer. This is what makes you feel bloated after 1 or 2 beers. I much prefer to feel bloated after 10 or 12 beers—and maybe a burger. You should also pour your cans and bottles into a glass to release the CO2.
We were immediately identified as tourists by everyone in the bar due to my wife's northerner accent. After I brought this up, she said "Mason-Dixon line" in her best drawl. I'm not convinced. Neither was anyone else. I always practice my non-regional diction. We drank flat beer and planned our attack.
We head to a place called The Rail because the sign said, "Spirits and Spirits". So, we were hoping it was haunted. We didn't encounter any ghosts, but the bar did have a creepy vibe. It was clean and well kept, but something just seemed off about the people there. Everyone was looking in the same direction and everyone knew each other. It had the ambiance of a secret club, and we didn’t have the password. Also, could I get the password?
It turned out that the bar was being filmed for a news segment that evening and all the regulars gathered to be on TV. How cute. Wait, no. Someone was mooning the camera. Less cute. Look at the reporter with that slide move. He sidestepped to block the butt. That guy has a future in the business. Now we had to sit here and drink with this butt guy.
Then we went to Vinnie Van Gogos for pizza and realized the slices were bigger than my head. I got pineapple, jalapeño, and pepperoni. My wife got something boring. Apparently, she was here when she was much younger, and we spent the first few minutes of the pizza filled air trying to recreate a photo she took. Flawless. We finished out the night at a beer garden watching the Pittsburgh Pirates win despite being no-hit through 9 innings. Classic. We grabbed a bottle of wine and a mason jar full of Cheesecake— no questions asked. Then went up to our room.
We woke up and had Australian bacon for breakfast with a cold brew. We got some good pictures of Whomping Willow trees. Wait, what are they? They’re Southern Live Oaks covered in Spanish Moss— just as cool. Then we did some shopping. The highlight was buying Christmas ornaments from a man who told us between 9 and 400 times that he was personal friends with Jim Shore.
The area was famous for ghosts, so we signed up for a tour at midnight. Now we just have to kill some daylight. We can take our time looking through all the antique stores. I made the joke, "Every antique should come with a free ghost!" Then we saw a sign that said, “Free ghost with every purchase!” They’re always stealing my jokes. Who’s they, you ask? Everyone. We recuperated in the room in a little. Then we got ready for the afternoon/evening/dinner/night/ghosts.
We went out to start drinking. A Goose Island rep is there and offers to buy our first round as long as it's a Goose Island. You had me at beer— and free. Jokes on her. I was going to get that anyway. She talked to us like we've never heard of the company. Apparently, it had no presence in the south. We told her we were from Pittsburgh and love Goose Island. She looked duped. We made up for it by explaining the app, Untapped. She downloaded the app and said that she plans on presenting it at their next regional meeting. This woman also claimed responsibility for popularizing Fireball in recent years. A bit of a stretch. There were a lot of tall tales coming our way today— looking at you Jim Shore’s friend. She did explain her situation. Look for Untappd to get an uptick in popularity after this lady. Most couples we know that use Untappd have separate accounts and compete with one another. Losers. My wife and I are a team and have a joint account. This also helps us beat all those couples. Some call it cheating. I call it love.
Then we hit Treylor Park for dinner. (The street name is Treylor.) They had amazing chicken and biscuits. We got to watch a bachelorette party pound shots. Then we dipped out the back gate. We bar hopped a little more but needed to pace ourselves since we were ghost hunting from 10 to 12pm. So, I needed to have my wits about me, but I needed to be drunk enough to not be paralyzed by fear for the duration.
Thank goodness our guide recommended a to-go wine from across the street. He knew what was up. I've never been so scared in my life. I needed more wine. There were ghosts everywhere. The details were too horrifying to disclose in this channel. I did not sleep.
OK, fine. I like to think of myself as a pretty tough guy (crippling fear of the dark, dragged into haunted houses by my wife, top three fears include parades, ceiling fans, and medicine cabinets). So, I didn’t expect this to be a turning point in my life. I went from sleeping to not sleeping. There were so many ghosts. The stories told by our guide were bone-chilling. I highly recommend this tour. There was an announcement made asking if anyone had seen a white cat. “Aww, no did somebody lose a kitty?”
The next one was, “What about a little girl in a red dress?”
“Oh no, is she with the kitty?”
Then he says, “OK well if you do see them do not go near them. They may be demons.” Oh. Cool. Now there are freaking demons. I guess the technical term was a boo hag. This type of thing likes to attach itself to a person and consume their negative feelings like anxiety and depression. Immediately my hand shoots up. “Is this a service that I can sign up for? Is there a waiting list?” Please eat my anxiety. I was then told that the Boo Hag causes these feelings and then eats them. Honey, this bucket is full. But still, less appealing. The only way to tell if one is in your room is if the room is completely pitch black and then there is a slightly darker black shape on the wall. If there is, that’s her. Hence me staring at every inch of my walls instead of doing normal things like reading while trying not to wake my wife with my night light. There is an easy way to dismiss these creatures. You have to use one of those non-electric vacuum cleaners— brooms. It has to be an old-school one though, with all the bristles. They need to stop and count each bristle each night and eventually will starve.
After an all-nighter— not by choice, we got the car and finished our moving trip to Florida. It was already too hot. What were we thinking?
Until I get dragged somewhere else,
A Lazy Husband.