Stop #(Square Root of -1) -- Because Sometimes I Think Illinois is Imaginary (Guest Blogger)

It's that time again: Time for a post from a guest blogger!

This stop's account comes from my good friend and "LJ BFF 4-Eva!", Becca. Becca's been a friend of mine for roughly eight and a half years, and a fan of Steak 'n Shake for what I can only assume to be nine and a half years. We met at Butler, through the marching band (and subsequently Band Greek programs), and Becca was a year older than me. Thus my math -- which is actually more Becca's forte than mine. While I studied writing (Ta-da, a BLOG!), she studied useful things. Which is a fantastic segue into her selected title for her post, which is evidence of those things she understands ....

Stop #(Square Root of -1) -- Because Sometimes I Think Illinois is Imaginary

I adore Steak ‘n Shake.

No, really. I dream of Frisco melts, cheese fries, chili, and the orange dreamsicle shake (side-by-side shake consisting of orange freeze and vanilla).

Why do I dream of these wondrous, delicious foods?

Because I live in Minnesota. And Minnesota does not have a single Steak ‘n Shake ... anywhere.

Something is very wrong with this, and not just because there is no Steak ‘n Shake in sight so therefore it isn’t right. Minnesotans love food! If you need any proof, go Google the Minnesota State Fair and learn about our obsession about food on a stick. (Without spending my entire life doing a ton of research, I can report there were 81 different vendors at the fair last year which had some sort of food on a stick.)

But the cherry on top as to why Minnesota needs a Steak ‘n Shake is provided by the picture below:


That Cherry on a Spoon, my Steak ‘n Shake loving friends, is located in the fair city of Minneapolis which is appropriately located in the great state of Minnesota.

And so, Steak ‘n Shake executives who I KNOW are reading this blog, how can you resist? Think of all the marketing strategies related to shakes you could use with a city that has a giant cherry on a spoon! It’s genius!

Alas, no enterprising franchiser has attempted a Steak ‘n Shake up here in the north, so I have to resort to getting my Frisco melt fix anytime I’m on a road trip near a Steak ‘n Shake.

This brings me to the evening of March 2nd, 2012. I had recently (read: earlier that evening) arrived in the greater Chicago area (read: a suburb) after driving through inclement weather (read: snowstorm in southern Wisconsin) for a weekend of debauchery and wickedness (read: original plan was bar-hopping, but most of us ended up going to see Butler lose a basketball game against Valparaiso instead - we have our priorities). My gracious host and I had just been joined by two endeavoring friends from Indiana (including the owner of this very blog) and a consensus was reached: time for a Steak ‘n Shake run!

As two of the members of this run had been to the Glendale Heights restaurant previously (see this interlude post from July 2011), we decided to go to the restaurant in Downer’s Grove.

If you have been paying attention (which I’m sure you are), you believe we had four members in our merry group. However, you would be wrong. We had five:


He was a small little guy, very quiet, fond of fedoras, and not hungry at all. He just wanted some water in exchange for the fun excursion.


He was, however, very photogenic and not afraid to show it off. He joined in many of our pictures.

Firstly, the “gangsters with fedoras”:


(Interlude: Yes, I am in that picture. I’m on the right with the horrible fashion sense of wearing a black fedora with a brown hooded sweatshirt. You may recognize me from such stops as #2, #3, and #39.) (Also, you’re probably sick of me being that one person from Minnesota who comments on every single one of the blog entries.)

Secondly, the old people:


(Interlude #2: Okay, okay, Rachel and Kathy are really not that old. They’re just older than Marcy and I. Thus, old.)

My dinner was my basic standard, a Frisco melt with fries. I have yet to find anything in Minnesota that even comes close to the composition of a Frisco melt.


During our dinner, we played the Steak ‘n Shake story game. Here is the end result, because you know you want to read it:

Blue crayons and unicorns are captivating.
Most unicorns eat chilidogs.
For chilidogs gave them their magic flying powers.
After swallowing their chilidogs whole, they leapt high into the sky and flew east.
Percival flew with a wombat on the back of a paranoid unicorn.
He was searching for the missing horn.
The horn was found inside a tuba!
“How did that get there?” the bird wondered.
“Peel back the crayon wrapper before sharpening the crayon,” responded the hyena, he he he he!
The hyena leapt for joy at his great discovery.
He leapt so high he touched the moon.
That’s what she said.
Throwing babies is not an option. It was dark and they were big, like angry blowfish.
Unless the babies deserved it.
And in Muck’s world, they always deserve it.
Because they deserved it, everyone else rejoiced.
And there was partying in ALL the land!

And because of our diminutive guest, we gnome-ified ALL the things!


Well, maybe not all the things. Maybe just the sign.

All in all, a great Steak ‘n Shake outing had occurred, and this Minnesotan got her frisco melt.


Until next time, Steak ‘n Shake.

Stop #26: Schererville (#217)

Stop #26 took us to Schererville, Indiana, just an hour or so after we left the Steak 'n' Shake in Valparaiso.


Kathy and I met up with a former student worker of mine, Terri, who is awesome; a couple of other friends, Toni and Aaron, who made a recommendation for me for a DJ for the wedding; and someone you've all been missing:


Brett!

Sadly, he wasn't feeling all that happy when he saw us arrive. He was feeling more like this:


Namely because he thought we were ridiculously late. Which, we were a bit late -- but he was early, and that's not our fault.

Still, it was an exciting time. Kathy and I did arrive.


And it was good to see some kids I haven't seen in a while.


And I got to meet someone new: Toni's husband, Aaron.


And Aaron turned into quite an assett on this stop. Because, when we played the Steak 'n' Shake story game, he was our reader.

And so that all you readers can enjoy the story too:

Once upon a time Marcy sucked at driving and was really late to see some good friends, thus their friendship ended with fiery vengeance.
When Marcy arrived, Corrie, our server, became our referee for our battle.
The battle was eminent.
It was complete with straw wrappers and hyperactive hot peppers.
Suddenly, Edward Norton showed up, wielding a sword and vowing death to those who continued the attack with straws (but not hot peppers).
He was quite partial to hot peppers as a weapon, they are so versatile yet so straightforward.
Unlike ketchup that just ends up everywhere.
But ketchup is good in life and people enjoy it, unlike Marcy.
People also love fries with their ketchup. Suddenly, it's peanut butter jelly time, peanut butter jelly time, peanut butter jelly, peanut butter jelly, peanut butter jelly and a baseball bat -- with ketchup laden fries. Do I hear the "Beer Cheer"?
And Jesus said, "Why yes, I believe I WILL have a beer!"
Which he then miraculously turned from Keystone into Guinness.
Then got trashed off of car bombs and Black and tans.
In an attempt to get back on Brett's good graces, she bought him a milkshake, but did it work?
TO BE CONTINUED

It's true. I did buy Brett a milkshake, though not so much to get back in his good graces as to thank him for driving Kathy back to Chicago after our Schererville stop.

Of course, the milkshake benefited me, too: I promptly stole his cherry.


Also, I think it's been proven that hot peppers are not necessarily the most effective weapon, as Kathy's pretty much immune.


Yes, Kathy tends to douse her chilli in this stuff. So much that she usually requires two bottles. She's kind of my hero sometimes.

As for me, I ordered a California Double Steakburger, fries, and a Cherry Coke.

Oh yeah, and a receipt, well-done.


And thus ended Stop #26, with good times had by all, except Brett, who has no soul and therefore will never experience good times.


Just kidding. I miss Brett. Steak 'n' Shake just isn't the same without him. Which can mean only one thing: Brett must come back to Indiana. Even if I have to kidnap him. Har har har ....

Stop #15: 26 & 52, Lafayette (#148)

Stop #15 in the quest brought us to a Steak 'n' Shake I know and love quite well, almost as well as I know and love the Steak 'n' Shake in Nora.

It brought us to the Steak 'n' Shake on IN-26 and 52 in Lafayette.


Which I had unfortunately confused for a Steak 'n' Shake in WEST Lafayette.

You see, I've been to this Steak 'n' Shake at least once a year since the spring of 2004.

Back then, I was a freshman in college, and had been active in Tau Beta Sigma (the band service sorority that ate my life for most of my undergrad time) for a whopping almost full semester.

As the semester's end drew near, some fellow sisters in my chapter said, "Hey! Let's go to the Purdue chapter's initiation in West Lafayette! Who's in?"

Being a freshman with not a hefty homework load and a probably almost unhealthy enthusiasm for band and all things related (considering I wasn't a major, anyway), I said "Me! Me! Me!", waved my hand around enthusiastically, and earned myself a ride in someone else's car. (My dearest Comadreja Negra was still in Fort Wayne, enjoying a lighter insurance policy because I wasn't driving her anywhere remotely near on a daily basis.)

And so began my relationship with Beta Sigma -- the Purdue chapter of Tau Beta Sigma -- and their favorite local Steak 'n' Shake.

I have yet to miss a Beta Sigma initiation since I first began attending them (sad, on the other hand, is that I *have* missed one of Epsilon's, my own home chapter, due to a rescheduling issue this past semester; on the other hand, I've been to the exact same number of initiations for each, because Epsilon put through a fall and a spring class in one year, while Beta Sigma only has spring classes).

I know, that depth of detail doesn't matter to most people, but I heart Epsilon and I heart Beta Sigma, and I heart Tau Beta Sigma.

So I've been to Purdue many a time. And because it is the Steak 'n' Shake they go to when they want to celebrate, I've been to the Steak 'n' Shake on 26 and 52 just as often. Even when it was against my best interests. Like one year, when the initiation was done Sunday night at 9 p.m. and I had a 15-page paper due Monday afternoon with only two pages done before departing for West Lafayette.

See, these are the kinds of excellent decisions I make when it comes to attending Sigma initiations. (On the other hand, I scratched out a chunk of that paper on the back of placemats at the Steak 'n' Shake, typed it up when I got home, and managed to get something like a B+ on my final product, so who's to say that the excellent in that previous statement really has to be said in a sarcastic tone?)

So the trip to Steak 'n' Shake #15 was significantly more populated than the standard Steak 'n' Shake trip is.


World, meet Beta Sigma. I feel obligated to mention, at this point, for those unfamiliar, that Tau Beta Sigma is a co-ed sorority. So don't feel confused by the presence of ladies and gentlemen.

"Well, that's not my biggest confusion," you're now saying. "What's confusing me is, what are those things that some of them have on their heads?" you are now wondering. "For serious," I'm sure you are asking, "are they high?"

Well, though they call those things on their heads "pots," I assure you they are not high. I even have one myself!


And I promise, I am not high, nor have I ever been high. What was the line? "I did not inhale"? Something like that. Except, I never had the opportunity to inhale. I mean, not that I'd call it an opportunity. I'll stick to my legal adult beverages, thank-you-very-much. Though not while attending something like this initiation.

Anyway. So a pot is a collection of various things, attached to a hat. Most kids I know that have them are band kids (well, scratch that -- every kid I know that has one is a band kid), and TBS kids at that, so much of the stuff attached is band-related or TBS-related stuff. For example, you'll notice that mine has a bead bracelet dangling, a pin, a slinky, some blue Mardi Gras beads, a nine of spades, and a rubber duck. The bead bracelet was a gift from my first MC class, the pin is the TBS pin, the slinky is from my big sis in TBS because through her I was in the slinky family, the blue Mardi Gras beads are actually rally beads from a basketball game I attended with the basketball band, the nine of spades was my ticket to get into the Kappa Kappa Psi/Tau Beta Sigma formal my junior year, and the rubber duck was a gift from my little sis because we were part of the rubber duck family in the chapter. Also, though you can't see it from this angle, I've got a bulldog Pez dispenser on there, because bulldogs are the mascot here and because I was also a member of the Pez family. I mention this only 'cause I'm spectacularly proud of the fact that my pot has a Pez dispenser. I never have to go hungry!

The point is, as you can probably gather, the vast majority of the stuff on my pot is band- or TBS-related.

"Okay," you're now saying (unless you're a Beta Sigma member who has stumbled upon this post because you're awesome), "that still doesn't really explain what a pot is supposed to be. You're terrible at this, Marcy," you're adding. Because I am.

Which is why I asked a friend of mine more well-versed in these things how he would describe them. Neal's an alum of the Beta Sigma chapter, and so was around before I was and has had much more experience trying to tell people what these things are (probably because, if you attend a district convention at any point, you see this group of kids running around, and you are forced to ask one of them [and hopefully that one you asked was Neal] what exactly they have on their heads, and why). And as Neal put it, they're like "wearable scrapbooks."

Neal, this is exactly why I asked you for advice on the description. Because not only do you actually summarize it well, but you do it poetically!

My most recent, sad, attempt at poetry? A haiku, to my boss, to update him on the status of the building one particular evening.

Confucius say that
The night before Labor Day
Is no night to work

Terrible, but true. But wearable scrapbooks? Awesome. And also true.

At any rate.

So Steak 'n' Shake Stop #15 was attended by many many people, a large chunk of whom were wearing crazy things on their heads called pots. And one of whom was wearing something awesome on his head, called a fedora.


That's right. Mizener, first featured in SnS Stop #5, joined us for Stop #15. Also, Mizener is now a feature.

As you can see, Mizener was not only wearing his fedora -- but he was super excited about his Frisco Melt. And why shouldn't he be? Frisco Melts are awesome.


Also joining us at our table were current Epsilon members Kelli and Mike, non-respectively. They were asked to show how they felt about being in West Lafayette. Unfortunately, Mike must have misheard "Ohio" for "Lafayette," as that is what his reaction is more appropriate for.

I'm kidding, but only a little bit. Mike actually likes Ohio, apparently -- he's from there (I never said Ohio didn't make good exports; I know lots of native Ohio-ans who are fantastic people), and is going to grad school there, so hopefully he doesn't really feel that way about Ohio. More likely I'm projecting -- but can you blame me? I mean, it's Ohio.

Mike really should try to stay close, though. After all, once our food came out (small cheese fries, "Very Berry" strawberry shake, and a Coke for me), Mike gave his cherry to one of the Beta Sigma sisters. (He offered it to me first, but I unfortunately had to turn it down, 'cause it came in his milkshake, which also contained Reese's peanut butter cups, which also contained chocolate, which is something I can't have for another few days yet.)

So the Beta Sigma sister came over and got his number, 'cause, you know, someone gives you their cherry, you should maybe pretend to be interested in them outside of that one fateful night ....


Shh ... no one tell Mike that he was probably entered as "Brunette from the SnS".

While this was going on, I stole Mizener's fedora, 'cause it's awesome.


He stole it back. But that was okay. 'Cause I still had my pot. And an awesome "I'm Double-oh-seven, or maybe one of Charlie's Angels" pose.


Previous picture included 'cause Mizener was proud of us for looking awesome.

As at many of the stops in this trip, we entertained ourselves with a game.

At our table, we worked on the anagram puzzle on the back of the placemat. And discovered that with the letters

ZEN LBE MOO TAF SEAMRYMIZ

Steak 'n' Shake was trying to share the message that

MR. FAT AL IS ZEN, I BE ZOEY!

Meanwhile, everyone else at the super long table was playing the Steak 'n' Shake game, wherein one person writes a sentence to start a story, the next person reads the first sentence, adds their own sentence, then hides the first person's sentence so that the third person can read only the second person's sentence before adding their own third sentence, and so on.

And because my fancy schmancy camera can do video, I was able to capture this fantastic story!

Unfortunately, I just realized that it exceeds the limit for uploading video on blogger. Sad day. I don't even have the paper the story was written on, so I can't copy it over. Even sadder day.

Shortly after the story was read, people started heading out.

Because it wasn't really possible to get a traditional group picture of this:


We stuck with a traditional group shot covering the table I sat at instead.


Thank you for a fantastic night and quest stop, Beta Sigma and SnS on 52 and 26!

Stop #9: Greenwood on 31 (#32)

This was totally not planned, but the store number for Stop #9 following the store number for Stop #8 makes a palindrome! Seriously. Go look at the last post.


Stop #9 happened Monday night, March 7. Or, again, really really early Tuesday morning, if you want to get technical.

Which I may want to do in this post, because that would sort of explain my pseudo-"Fat Tuesday" behaviors at the Steak 'n' Shake in Greenwood, on 31.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Because the first thing I wanted to say in this post is that the Greenwood stop has probably been the best stop so far, in terms of the Steak 'n' Shake itself being exceptionally awesome. Our server was a woman named Kathryn M., and she actually seemed excited to see us when we walked in. So excited that I was forced to wonder if someone had leaked our quest to her before we showed up. Which actually wouldn't have been a bad thing. I actually hope that as we near the end of this quest, people at the Steak 'n' Shakes we have not been to yet may actually know we're coming, if not exactly when, at least that we will.

Of course, her excitement may have had nothing to do with our quest. It may have been partly due to the fact that no one was in the place when we walked in, so our appearance meant she would actually have people to talk to.

At any rate, Kathryn made the trip more fun than Steak 'n' Shake is all by itself. She was excited by the box of crayons I was toting along with me (all 148 of them!) and happy to get me an extra placemat or two so we could make the sign and have some spare paper as well, uses to be determined later.

And as we complimented the fact that this Steak 'n' Shake was playing some awesome old-school diner music, similar to what you'd hear in a Johnny Rocket's, compared to the pop we've heard at most Steak 'n' Shakes so far (nothing against pop per sé, it just gets a bit old sometimes), and then started to talk about current music in general, Kathryn made an awesome comment, which my friend and our newest guest for the night Zach decided to tweet.


And Kathryn's comment? "Lady Gaga is a musical genius, while Nicki Minaj is more of a crack baby."
Zach is also awesome for his hashtag on this particular item. #epicsteaknshakeservercomment

At any rate, Kathryn was awesome. So awesome that I almost wish we weren't on this quest to go to all the Steak 'n' Shakes in the state, 'cause I'd like to go to the Greenwood one again.

I decided to try something new, again, on this trip, and ended up ordering the Guacamole Steakburger (and, of course, fries).

And it was actually really good. I'm going to have to get it again, and recommend it to others. Although, if you don't like guacamole, well, you probably won't like the Guacamole Steakburger, no matter how many praises I sing.

While we ate, we used some of that extra placemat paper that Kathryn brought out to do the story game. We haven't played in a long time, in part because we usually don't have enough people to play, and in part because Brett has no soul and hates this game. I made him pretend to have a soul, just for Monday night. Though I forgot to mandate that he pretend to not hate the game, too.

And for those who want it, the story:

Once upon a time, Brett drove Zach, Marcy, and Nathan to the Steak 'n' Shake in Greenwood. And himself, of course.
Talks of small penises and hummers commenced.
Then Marcy started this stupid story which made all the pandas in the world fall into deep depression, thus the panda ward was used in downtown Fort Wayne.
Then all the marsupials started attacking kittens; chewing kitten paws and putting said paws in their pouches. After feeding, they stared inside the windows of Steak 'n' Shake, awaiting Marcy's entrance on her world tour.
"What up New York!" Marcy cried in excitement, picturing herself in a concert in Madison Square Gardens.
Marcy's band filled Madison Square Gardens with the sensual sounds of Barry Manilow as she stepped up to the mic to hit her first thundering note.
As she stepped up to the mic she saw one of the poor Panda's she drove to suicide and decided that she would never make anyone suffer again with her stupid stories (i.e. raspberry ice cream).
No sooner had she stepped up to the mic, than the marsupials swarmed the stage. Kitten paws bombarded her from every direction. She began to cry as those marsupials climbed up her body and brought her to the ground.
And Jesus wept.

Okay, so the game is a bit more fun when you have more than four people. But I'm okay with this story, as I clearly died in the end.

Speaking of me dying ....

Since it was the wee hours of "Fat Tuesday" when we were at the Greenwood Steak 'n' Shake, I had Lent on my mind.

Steak 'n' Shake did not help, what with putting this placemat right in front of me:


But, on the plus side, at least I know there are options when I go to Steak 'n' Shake over the course of the next 40 days. I could have either the Fish Sandwich, OR the Fish Plate!

Ah, Catholicism. You are so tasty.

I already had Lent on my mind, though, when we arrived at the Steak 'n' Shake, because I had already made up my mind to give up chocolate this year. I've done it before, so I know it's doable, but I haven't done it in a few years, so I knew it would be a bit of a challenge for me.

But I also knew, from previous experience in giving up chocolate, that the best way to get myself through 40 days without it is to pretty much overdose and nearly kill myself with it right before Ash Wednesday.

And so, once I was done with my Guacamole Steakburger, I beckoned Kathryn to return to me.

"Bar wench," I said, because I decided I was now living in the 1500s and it was totally appropriate and not questionable at all for me to call Kathryn a "wench" despite the fact that, as I pointed out earlier, I actually liked her, "bring me the finest mead and honey cake you have!"

Of course, by "finest mead," I meant a chocomazing shake. And by "honey cake," I meant fudge brownie sundae.

That's right. I was going to eat them both in one sitting.


This, my friends, is my look of determination. This is a look that says, "Oh yes I can! I can and I will!" This is a look that says, "I know what I can handle, and I can handle this!" This is a look that says, "Brownie, Shake: You are going DOWN."


And this is the more light-hearted look, the one that says, "Brownie, Shake: You are going DOWN. But don't be scared. You are going DOWN ... and into my belly. But don't worry! It's warm and cozy there."

It's also the look that says, "I don't even need a spoon to take you out. I can take you on my own!"

Unfortunately, the picture that would logically come next, I can't show you. Because it happened the next morning, as I experienced my chocolate hangover that resulted from finishing the brownie yet only getting two thirds of the way through my chocomazing shake. I didn't get that picture because -- well, frankly, if you've ever had a hangover, you probably realize that capturing that Kodak moment is just not your priority. But if I had captured that Kodak moment, you'd be seeing the look that says, "I made a mistake." The look that says, "I have many regrets in my life, and last night was one of them." The look that says, "My name is Marcy, and I am an idiot."

And a look that, nearly drowning out all the above, moans, "Uuuuuuggggghhhhhhh."

I do feel that the hangover comparison is appropriate. I have had a hangover before. Only once, after a night in which I finished three quarters of a fifth of pineapple rum in under an hour. Stupid decision? Yes. But not the point I'm making here. For many months, I could not handle even the smell of pineapple following that hangover, let alone the taste of it. And we're not just talking my friend the Cap'n, in pineapple. We're also talking that slice of pineapple that Steak 'n' Shake sends out on top of its cottage cheese. The pineapple you find in a fruit salad. The pineapple in the pineapple upside-down cake. The thought alone would make me lose my appetite.

And my friends, when I woke up Tuesday morning, after my night of debauchery with this brownie sundae and chocomazing shake (a night in which that shake, for once, bested me), I didn't want to eat anything chocolate. I didn't want to look at anything chocolate. I didn't want to think about anything chocolate. And when I unfortunately did, I was left feeling so sick that I couldn't eat. Tuesday, I ate a whopping 390 calories. Well, between waking up, and going to bed (we're obviously not counting the Steak 'n' Shake trip in that number.) I couldn't find anything appetizing, let alone the chocolate that so tempts me most of the time.

Mission: accomplished.

Mission 2 will also be accomplished if I can manage to drop a few pounds, too, by thinking about chocolate any time I start to feel hungry and thereby suppressing that hunger to the point that I never have to eat. But that would be just a bonus at this point, as the primary goal -- to make myself not even want chocolate for most of the Lent season -- has already been fulfilled.

And so ended another successful Steak 'n' Shake trip. Which shouldn't have surprised me -- after all, going in, I knew this was stop #9. It was clearly destined to be awesome.