Covid Staycation 2020, Day 5: Erie Stuffs Part 2

I’ll try to make this short-n-sweet because who cares, but we made it to Erie and the rain miraculously held off the whole time we were there. This was great, but it also scared me a little bit because I worried it would make the fake beaches crowded. (They’re not really fake, but it’s not the actual ocean so it’s kind of like whatever and you know we must be pressed for action when I was like YAY WE’RE IN ERIE!!)

We had to drive past Waldameer Park to get to the entrance of Presque Isle and I was so sad—that’s the closest I’ve been to an amusement park since last year when we went to Silver Dollar City over Thanksgiving weekend. OH, THE PAIN, THE HEARTACHE. To really dump salt into the ol’ wound, you have to drive RIGHT UNDERNEATH Ravine Flyer II on the way into Presque Isle, and that is one of my favorite woodies.

Ode to COVID19:

You really fucking suck

But you sure make me

Appreciate the small things

 

Is that right? I can’t remember the haiku format and don’t feel like looking it up so instead I will spend the same amount of time typing out this sentence, also one time when I was doing Blogathon, I didn’t count my haiku syllables correctly and JANNA WAS A BAD EDITOR AND LET IT SLIDE and of course since it was LIVEJOURNAL, I got eaten alive. People on LJ were ruthless. That’s why back then I used to proofread my posts 8x before publishing whereas now, no one cares about my rookie grammar mistakes and bouts of brain-blackouts.

Oh shit, I can remember this one I accidentally used “don” instead of “dawn” and this one bitch was literally telling me how disappointed she was in me for confusing homonyms (homophones? SEE WHAT I MEAN??) and I’m pretty sure she actually threw a *cringe* in her comment. Whatever. She made really shitty art, so I guess we both suck.

Isn’t it funny how people’s nastiness sticks with you over the years? LIKE CHEWING GUM ON RIBS. Or whatever.

Presque Isle has a bunch of different areas for you to park and be outdoorsy. We went to whatever this place ^^^ was first, and stupid ass Henry forgot to put the memory card in the good camera so he had to stalk back to the car in a huff while I motherfucked him from afar and Chooch was like, “I just remembered that road trips suck” and then it started to rain, hahahahahahahaha.

Anyway, I took some pictures of Chooch with my phone while waiting for Henry to untuck his weener.

There was bird shit everywhere, but aside from that, this was a pretty cool area of Presque Isle.

I’m actually kind of jealous of Chooch’s shirt and I need to try it on at some point because if it fits me, we’re sharing.

Then I made Chooch take a picture of me jumping by this lighthouse thing so that “it looks like we’re having fun” but I guess we were kind of having fun, well, maybe not Henry.

Chooch was just like, “I hate doing this.” Basically, we were relearning a lot of things that day, lol.

Then we got  back in the car and drove some more, looking for a good section of the beach which, I mean, how do you know? You can’t see anything from the little parking lots. But we found one that didn’t have many cars and got really lucky when we converged upon the beach and saw that there was just one other family there, flying a kite (that antiquated activity really seems to have made a big comeback thanks to COVID), and they were really far away.

So I got to take photos of Chooch in peace, well, not really because taking photos of Chooch is like taking photos of a magpie surrounded by Shiny Things; that kid is so fucking easily distracted. I had to keep snapping my fingers to get his attention just kidding I can’t snap my fingers, I was just screaming, “FUCKING STOP MOVING AND DO A POSE THAT TAEMIN WOULD DO!!!”

All he wanted to do was build a “beach house” out of driftwood and trash, so that’s what I had to contend with.

Henry and I actually left him and walked down to another section of the beach because I was antsy from sitting in the car so long and just wanted to walk. We saw a couple taking selfies and I was like “we should do that too so I can post it on Instagram and make people think we still love each other” and Henry was like “ok but I actually do still love you, so” and I was like, “Stop yapping and hold the phone up high so I don’t look fat, thanks.”

Anyway, every picture was shit because the sun was making me squint and also because I’m just bad at posing for pictures anyway, but then I saw this one on my camera roll and deemed it a keeper because god only knows what we were laughing at but I’m sure there were death threats being thrown around too.

We walked back to were Chooch was and pulled him away from his Lake Erie construction site to take pictures of us and Henry was like, “HERE I WILL JUST SHIELD YOUR BODY” since I’m always like, “No I look fat, delete it” and then everyone involved is miserable and tired of hearing me say, “just one more.”

Anyway, here we are trying to look “normal.” Then I was like “Lake Erie is boring and I’m hungry, let’s go eat” and Chooch was like BUT MY HOUSE! Fuck your house, bitch. Mama’s ’bout to show you how the Big Bad Wolf gets shit done.

So we left Presque Isle and Erie has like no good vegan/veg places so we went to Sheetz and got our signature MTO (that’s MADE TO ORDERS for you people whose lives are devoid of the best gas station ever known as SHEETZ) delights, also mostly because we still choose not to dine inside restaurants. We never used to eat out much anyway, pre-pandemic, but we DEFINITELY enjoyed patronized little family restaurants anytime we were on a road trip, so that was kind of a bummer.

Actually, we just drove past this one local restaurant the other day called Frank & Shirleys and I got this really depressing feeling deep within my chest, not because I was a regular and sorely miss their food or anything, but I had a very visceral flashback to the feeling of sliding down into a vinyl diner booth and wow. Lots of emotions. Never would have imagined I would have missed that sensation so much!

Wow. Where was I? Oh yeah, we had a Sheetz feast in the car, nothing too noteworthy, and then on the way back home, we took a detour to Hank’s Frozen Custard, where Chooch and I went last year with Janna. I had their daily special – black cherry – with a scoop of vanilla. It was OK but not nearly as good as I remembered it to be? It was also strange to see the corrals that they made in the parking lot to accommodate social distancing during the busier hours, but luckily when we went, it was still early on a Friday afternoon and only two other cars of people were there.

“‘Just OK.”

It was also dripping everywhere because Henry made me give him a taste and as soon as he did so, it was like he opened a custard dam and that shit just started dripping down in goopy rivulets and I was actually screaming about in the middle of the parking lot while he and Chooch just stared at me, calmly licking their tidy fucking custard cones.

Fuckers.

One final noteworthy thing happened, and it surely wasn’t when I tagged along with Henry later that night when he went grocery shopping (his least favorite place to take me because I simultaneously make him spend $100 more than he anticipated while also whining about being bored within the first 5 minutes). I saw a sign for antiques and made Henry turn around (actually, I yelled, “OOH ANTIQUES” and then waited for him to drive another mile before flipping and saying, “WOW SO I GUESS YOU REALLY AREN’T GOING TO TURN AROUND AND GO TO THE ANTIQUES PLACE THEN, WOW, YOU’RE SO FUCKING COOL” (see also: when Henry can’t remember if I’m his longtime life partner or 16-year-old daughter WOW THAT WAS CREEPY YOU’RE WELCOME).

Henry: Do you want me to turn around?

Erin: OMFG YOU’RE A FUCKING STOOP! CLEARLY YOU DON’T WANT TO OR YOU WOULD DONE IT ALREADY ON YOUR OWN ACCORD!!!

Henry: *calmly turns around while daydreaming about how wonderful his stay in Heaven is going to be thanks to enduring years of my emotional abuse without stuffing me in trunk and pushing the car into a river*

I was actually looking for stuff from the 80s to get for the kitchen, maybe some coffee cups, etc., but what I ended up finding instead was this old Pachinko machine:

I kept ogling it and eventually even Henry got a little bit interested in it and then at one point we actually left and were about to get in the car when I started dragging my feet and saying things like, “I don’t know, I just feel like I’ll regret it if I don’t buy it. No never mind. Wait should I? No it’s fine let’s just go. TELL ME WHAT TO DO!!!” and that is how we ended up going to Erie and coming home with a vintage Pachinko machine that honestly I only bought for the history and art of it, but now Henry is like cruising through Pachinko forums, determined to get it back to working condition.

He probably will, too.

I mean, after he finishes painting Chooch’s room, connecting all the LED lights together under the kitchen cabinets (“it’s basic wiring,” he said when I asked him how he knows how to do this shit), gets the old Conair phone to light up, finishes the coffee table refurb, finishes the Seoul subway sign (that’s a running joke in our house at this point except no one laughs), and helps me with my dining room gallery wall. I’m sure I’m missing some stuff here. I heard him mumble earlier today about needing to fix the lawnmower but I haven’t approved that.