Week 2 in Digby

Well, this has taken a bit longer to write than I intended. Lily and I worked the weekend and then the rest of this week was a bit more on the hectic side. That isn’t to say that we didn’t have our moments of fun, I just lacked the energy to write about it. But, since I am in hour 3 I think of a 4 and ½ hour flight, I seem to find myself with a bit more time on my hands.

Let’s start with the local flavor of the place. Lily and I decided to stay close by the B&B and walk to dinner at one of the restaurants. Basically we decided that since it was Friday night, it was a good time to sit in a bar and drink dinner. We managed to meet a couple of the locals and everyone that came through the tiny bar managed to say a few words to us. Quite a friendly group! Then there was Elvis…..

You would think I would run into more of them, but aside from the guy working in the Impersonator show at the Imperial Palace, I haven’t seen any others. To run into one at the Dockside bar in Digby was an experience. Hmm. I’m not even sure where to start. This was a man who was most likely in his 40’s. I believe he was born and raised in Digby and his “day job” is as a clam digger. His passion, however, is singing Elvis songs at karaoke. If I heard correctly, he does this every day in a number of different locations around town. I also believe that he gets “paid” in beer in some of these places.

He of course had the requisite black hair worn in the traditional Elvis style. What he didn’t have was teeth. He was missing a number of his front teeth. This in itself was not real cause for concern or surprise. After spending 2 weeks there, I can say that there were several people we came across in a similar situation. However, none of the others felt a need to explain what happened to their teeth. Elvis wanted to make sure we knew that his now EX- girlfriend had somehow smashed his teeth, so he broke up with her. Quite sensible, really. He was supposed to be getting new teeth any day now.

He also seemed to have a real fascination regarding the clam digging process. It was very reminiscent of Bubba and the shrimp discussion in Forest Gump. He was clearly trying to make a sale and was offering to bring me a pail of clams that I could fry up. He figured I could easily eat about 100. What the hell? Was that an insult? I’m sure he didn’t think so. Whatever. He then described for me all the ways I could prepare them. I valiantly tried to steer the conversation to other topics, but I just got hit with even worse stories. He mentioned that he spends most of his time singing karaoke (and drinking beer) and does the clam digging gig when he needs cash. He talked about how difficult the work is and how it is a lot harder when you are hung over. I think you know where this is heading, but needless to say the story did not have a pretty ending and it gave the term “beer batter” a new meaning.

Real charmer, this guy. Once he found out where I lived, he made me this great offer that if I took him home with me that I could keep half of everything he would make. Lucky me. Then the conversation turned back again to Elvis, thank God. He told me he would dedicate a song to me and wanted to know what my favorite Elvis song was. Without missing a beat I replied “A little less conversation” to which he replied “I don’t know that one.” I finally escaped to the ladies room. I made Lily leave before karaoke started so I have no idea if he could actually sing or not. I’m guessing not.

After that, we decided to try and find some entertainment out of town. We hit the town of New Minas and went to the movies. Or at least we tried to. The first time we went, the movie was sold out. And since it was at least an hour dive each way, we decided to have dinner and then try for the movie the following night. So we did. We came back the following day and this time we bought the tickets first. Then we headed over to the strip mall that was hosting a carnival. Lily apparently has some sort of “carnie” phobia so of course I made her go and play one of the games with me. We didn’t bother to get on any of the deathtraps they call rides.

We saw the latest Pirates movie. It was long and sometimes confusing and pointless with too many plot twists. The best part was eating nachos and a hot dog.

The rest of the week was fine. We ended up eating breakfast at the gas station. It’s weird, I know, but the gas station has a restaurant that strongly resembles a Frisch’s Big Boy. It was a nice change of pace rather than having breakfast with the couple at the B&B. Heather and Wayne were super nice, but the variety of the Mainway was better.

So, back tonight to my own bed. And I am taking tomorrow off since I worked Memorial Day this week. Saturday Steve and I are headed out to a concert to see Joan Jett. It should be good. I talked to ThreeL today since it is her birthday and she told me that Joan Jett is dating Carmen Electra. What? How did I miss that? I wonder if she is going to be at the show too.