Stop #2: Steak 'n' Shake at 54th and Keystone, Indianapolis (#24)

Our second stop in this quest was scheduled for another Thursday night, February 10 (or, really really early Friday morning, the 11th, if you want to get really technical).

We couldn't be 100 percent sure that our intent to go out questing that night would be a successful venture or even a not-stupid idea, as it was going to be quite cold.

Actually, this map has nothing to do with our location. I know, it's fuzzy, but it's still possible to see, and worth noting, that the channel we've now decided is officially named Mariachi Weather listed that the temperature on Thursday would be -0 in Winnipeg.

That's right. They said NEGATIVE ZERO degrees.

I laughed. A lot. And then needed an excuse to put this picture somewhere. So now you all can laugh at Mariachi Weather, too.

Anyway. Since it was not -0 degrees in Indianapolis, we decided that the quest would take us to the Steak 'n' Shake at 54th and Keystone.


It's one that's relatively close to Butler. Fun fact, it's also the one where Nathan and I had our second date. It's also the one where I probably nearly ended the relationship before it even began, by telling the infamous raspberry ice cream joke. It took me 27 minutes, by his estimation. He got off lucky -- I've made that thing last 45 minutes before.

Anyway. This Steak 'n' Shake trip was an exciting time, in part because our Minnesotan friend Becca was in town. And she loves her some S'n'S.


Do my eyes deceive me, or has Becca incorporated a Spanish upside-down exclamation mark in her exclamation of excitement over Steak 'n' Shake? Becca, ¡I didn't know you habla-ed español! :)

We entertained ourselves with some Tic Tac Toe for a bit while we waited on our food. I brought crayons, making entertainment on the back of placemats easy. Then the waitress gave me her number 'cause she thought I was hot. With, like, seven t's. Number obscured to protect Toni's privacy.


Okay, jay kay. Our waitress wasn't named Toni, and she didn't give me her number. Toni is a friend of Brett's who got married recently, and I need to get in touch with her to ask her about the DJ she used, as I'm currently planning my own wedding. The Steak 'n' Shake napkin was the handiest thing I had to put a phone number on so I could call it later. Or, rather, text it. 'Cause clearly, phones were not made for making and receiving phone calls. Or at least, you would assume that was the case, given the behavior mine has been having recently. (Note to self, change voicemail recording from "Hi! You've reached Marcy! Obviously, I can't answer my phone, probably because I'm at work, but leave me a message ...." to "Hi! You've reached Marcy! Quite honestly, I probably AM available right now, but my phone is being jank, and the truth is that as you're hearing this message right this very moment, my phone is just now deciding to ring and let me know that I had a call, but oh no, wait, the phone has decided that it already kicked you to voicemail and too bad, so sad, but Marcy can't take her calls right now! Moral of the story is you should not bother leaving a message if this is your first time calling and simply hang up, 'cause Marcy will probably call you back within a minute and immediately launch into some bitching about how she really just misses her old Nokia flip phone, the one that had no special features beyond, you know, ringing when she was getting a call, and letting her answer those calls, and allowing her to make calls." Then again, my phone probably can't handle such a long voicemail recording because it is, after all, totally jank. But I should try anyway, so I can at least bitch about THAT later, too.)

After getting Toni's number, I decided it might be an appropriate time to tell the raspberry ice cream joke again. This made Brett want to kill me. This made me happy.

Sadly, Brett did not kill me. He just drove me and Becca back to campus to retrieve our cars.

But before he did, we got the official group picture.

One last note -- man. The quality of our SnS location signs sucks. I may need to actually resort to preparing signs in advance. Or at least bringing my own paper to create the sign on, instead of relying on the Steak 'n' Shake placemats, which now come with reverse sides littered with print.