Titled: "Making Adventure Happen or How To Make Corndogs Delicious"

O.k., so hubby gave me candy and another special card early Sunday and I gave him my special card with lots of kisses.
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Then while I was taking morning shower a idea stuck......Why don't we drive over to Louisiana for some of hubby's favorite Cajun fried Oysters??? We're retired. We're not on a short lease and it's Valentine's Day. We watch our diets, especially his, most meals, so why not? So I made him the proposition and he accepted.
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We dressed and tossed our ever-ready overnight bag in the truck, set the alarm, and took off.
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We windup driving all the way to the Coushatta Indian Casino/Hotel in Kinder, just north of Lake Charles, LA. Hubby remembered the sports bar & grill inside served excellent gumbo and fresh oysters.
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Opps!
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We had not taken into account it was a "holiday" weekend. No rooms could be had for 3 miles of the place. Monday was Presidents Day, so all bankers and postal workers had a 3-day weekend. But we got a clean very small room at a local motel and drove to the casino to eat. (More on room size later.)
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This casino is huge! 2700 slot machines, 70 table games, and all one level, very long aisles separating rows of slot machines. Imagine a football stadium field crowded shoulder to shoulder. Plus some in wheelchairs, some using walkers, some using canes, some wide fatties, turned walking into a slow shuffle. I wondered if the place was in violation of Fire Code with such a mash of human flesh? But then again, maybe fire codes don't apply on Indian Nation grounds.
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Anyway, we finally get to the restaurant's entrance and there is the waiting line. No problem, we're retired and in no hurry. We were 8th couple from being seated. And we waited and we waited and we waited some more. After 45 minutes, two couples in front of us said "To Hell with it" and left. By now there's fifty couples lined up behind us, the manager comes out to announce there's a problem in the kitchen and tells us "they can't serve anyone for at least another hour or longer!! They're short of kitchen help and running out of food supplies". We saw the tables weren't being cleared and speculating the one only bus boy had quit, now we speculated the cook had left with him. DANG! Their oyster shuckers may have quit too!
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This place has three other restaurants and all had very very long waiting lines. By now hubby must eat and take his evening dose of pills. So I suggest driving down the highway to some local cafe in the tiny hamlet of Kinder. Cajun Oysters be damned by now, food in any form was needed.
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Another long, slow shuffle through the masses to our entrance and walk another block in the full parking lot to my "Babe". It's misting rain and black as pitch on this stretch of highway and nearly 8 p.m..........
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Would you believe we stopped at the first place still open and ate in the car at a Sonic drive-in? Yep, sure did. Hubby wasn't feeling adventurous enough to search for anything better.
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What's so ironic and funny is we have a Sonic a few blocks from our house that we never go to, but here we were 221 miles at another one. I didn't eat a corndog, but hubby sure did....with mustard. Yucky! They did have good onion rings and milkshakes.
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Now we were over our disappointment and decided to get even, we drove back to the casino and took a few hundred dollars from them to make up for no oysters or gumbo. Serves them right. As we were leaving around 1 A.M., we saw the sports bar & grill was closed and empty. I didn't see any "Help Wanted" signs.....yet.
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In conclusion: To be retired you must have a sense of adventure and a fully loaded sense of humor. And may I suggest a cooler in the trunk with drinks and peanut butter sandwiches before you blast off on any adventurous impulse? You never know where you might eat next.
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FYI: Room size detail: Our room had a king size bed in a room so small that we bumped butts between the TV cabinet and foot of bed to get to also tiny bathroom. *Note to management, lose the king size bed or just call it the "Mattress Room" or maybe "The Lovers Room" on Valentine's Day. (I frighten myself sometime for good ideas.)

Side Note: There must be a few million unemployed with strong hands who could "shuck" oysters and be willing to relocate to south Louisiana. I suspect they could get a job easy in that area of Cajun country. No college degree required, "Compulsive Gamblers Need Not Apply".