Stop #16: I-69 & 96th Street, Indianapolis (#261)

Stop #16 actually may well have been in Fishers, instead of Indianapolis. I'm not entirely sure where, up there, Indianapolis ends and the suburbs begin. Unless it's Carmel, where it is apparently mandated that all buildings be made of brick, including such places as Best Buy, Burger King, and the doghouse in your backyard -- which is the only reason I can tell I'm in Carmel.

That brick Steak 'n' Shake will be a fantastic one to visit, now that I think about it ....

Anyway, Stop #16 took us to the Steak 'n' Shake on 96th Street, just off I-69.


I was really excited about this stop because, first off, it was done without too much prior planning. Friday morning began the texting game, and when I found out my sister and brother-by-legal-standards were coming down to pick up a chalupa (technically, a chinchilla, but ever since first seeing one a few years ago when visiting me and my then apartmentmates' apartment and seeing my former apartmentmate's chinchillas, they have referred to them as chalupas ... so let's hope they don't eat the little guy, though it would be a good excuse to use his fur for a coat. Or, you know, a mitten, given that that's about how much fur you could get from a single chinchilla ....), I quickly got in touch to see if they'd want to meet at a Steak 'n' Shake on their way down.

Another reason this trip was exciting was that it marked the return of the Brett.

Brett was actually the one handing off the chalupa to my sister and BBLS, so it was handy to have the familials meet us at the Steak 'n' Shake -- they could then follow Brett to his apartment to adopt their new kid.

As a sidenote, since my sister and BBLS's current pet, Maybelle, is a puppy that I refer to as my niece, I suppose Max the Chalupa will have to be referred to as my nephew, meaning the Chalupa that would have previously referred to Brett as "Daddy" is now somewhat my relation, if you include animals in such figurings, which I clearly do ... Brett, does this mean we're related? If so, I'm scared.

Anyway, my sister and BBLS were tired.


After all, they had spent a good chunk of the day driving. I suggested we meet at this Steak 'n' Shake because it was on their way down from Fort Wayne THE REGION OBVSLY GUYZ CUZ THAT'S TOTES WHERE I'M FROM! I found out later that they had actually come down earlier in the day with a plan to blow their tax refund on a new toy.


It is a helicopter. And clearly, Max the Chalupa needs to be afraid. Because it is chalupa-sized.

At any rate, they went to Circle Center Mall to pick this thing up, then backtracked back north for Steak 'n' Shake, only to head back to the Broad Ripple area to pick up their chalupa.

It was a fun trip to the Steak 'n' Shake though. For BBLS, it was the first time he participated in the anagram game.



Apparently, to him,

LAL UYO NCA TEA KENPCAAS!

actually means

ALL YOUR BASE ARE BELONG TO US!

No one tell him that the letters don't actually match in, in either types or number ....

What you say?

For those that don't get the reference (like Fiance, who shames me sometimes with his lack of knowledge ....), this knowyourmeme site can explain, and the second video down is a fantastic source.

Speaking of Internet memes that people should know yet don't, Brett is as yet unacquainted with the wonder that is Antoine Dodson. Brett, have a couple videos. I promise they're better than "Friday."

Original newscast:

And the fantastic musical version:

You have now been cultured to catch up with the summer of 2010. You're welcome.

Speaking of culture, we were unfortunately sitting near a group of high school kids (I'll take things that are unrelated for 200, Alex ... "What is a need for a smooth transition in a blogpost?"), which caused a bit or a lapse in maturity at our own table when BBLS decided to illustrate his anagram with a "waterslide," which Fiance then decided to ... um ... phallicize?

SPOILER ALERT: If you have kids out and about and near the computer, you may want to put them away at this moment.


Maybe I should be concerned about what Fiance is keeping in his pants. I'm not sure any human appendage is supposed to look like that. And if one does, the owner of said appendage may need to seek medical attention.

Eventually we got our food and ate it (a salad with French dressing, a fish sandwich, cheese fries, and a very berry strawberry milkshake for me; for the record, likely the LAST fish sandwich of the quest, as Friday was Good Friday and thus the last Friday of Lent), and were content.

Well, we were sort of content.


We were sort of faking for this picture, because we were a little less than super-excited about our service. Some things were forgotten, some things took too long, and some refills never came. I'm not really one to complain, which is probably why it's a good thing I've got Fiance around, 'cause when the manager stopped by the table, Fiance let him know the troubles. Though I've got to say, I worry Fiance gets harsh sometimes -- having been a server, I think he has higher standards. However, the manager was very friendly and apologetic, and that made up for it for me. What can I say? I'm easy to please.

And so ended our Stop #16 in this awesome quest of awesomeness.

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!

A Steak 'n' Shake Interlude

Monday night, April 4, 2011.

A night of almost unfathomable heartbreak.

If you've read my previous post, you'll note that I've been delayed in my recent posting because I've been recovering from this heartbreak.

The heartbreak of the Butler Bulldogs getting to the national championship game for a second, consecutive year, and losing again.

It was a sad night. A really sad night. I watched the game in Hinkle with Fiance and Molly, my old roommate and my honorary bulldog friend because we've converted her effectively.

(Though I don't know how hard that task truly was, given she's an IU alum.)

Jay kay. I do appreciate that Molly likes our team. These last two years have earned our team a lot of fans that we didn't have before, that are not necessarily affiliated with Butler or Indianapolis even, but who recognize a good group of kids when they see one.

As the game crept closer and closer to the end and the outcome was looking more and more bleak, Hinkle started clearing out. There were two and a half minutes left, and my heart fell not only because our team looked like it might resort to what I consider terrible desperate playing tactics, but because fans were already clearing out of the fieldhouse. We were down so much that they didn't think it was worth it to watch the rest.

I don't know at what point I myself started accepting that I was probably going to watch my team lose that night, again, but it wasn't that early. It's Butler basketball, and I believe in last-minute miracles. At least, I did this season. Most of our games in the tournament this year, we survived by last-minute miracles.

And when the clock finally wound out the last second, put the time at zero and declared UConn this year's champs, I turned to Molly with just one suggestion. (Fiance had left just after halftime, not due to a disbelief that the Dawgs would win [his attendance at Butler basketball events is purely an act of significant other support; he does not really care about Butler, or basketball, and frankly surprises me when we attend games and he doesn't have to ask me what color uniforms we're cheering for], but because he had to leave town early the next morning.)

My suggestion, my request: a trip to Steak 'n' Shake.

Not just any Steak 'n' Shake, though. Our Steak 'n' Shake. The one in Nora. It had seen me through many other trying times, including one of my first true heartbreaks, one that had drawn out of me real tears, and I knew it would see me through this difficult time as well.

I apologize. I'm sure the last thing anyone comes to this blog for is a description of me in my most emotionally vulnerable moments. Picturing me crying is probably pretty awkward, and definitely not pretty.

But the good news is, on Monday, April 4, no tears were shed.

Yes, it was a sad end to the season, but Molly and I had a chance to talk about the positives of the year.

Like how Butler made it to the tournament again.
Like how we made it to the Final Four in back-to-back years.
Like how we were the first team in Indiana to make it to the Final Four in back-to-back years.
Like how we made it to the championship game in back-to-back years.
Like how we were also -- it could go without saying but I'm going to say it anyway -- the first team in Indiana to make it to the championship game in back-to-back years.
Like how we did all this even without Gordon Hayward.
Like how we both want to have Matt Howard's babies.

And as we talked about all these positives (Fiance may disagree with that last one being a positive; he's just going to have to accept that I want a kid who can play basketball, and given my height deficit, my best chance is going to be reproducing with someone monstrously taller than me, no matter how awkward it may be getting through it), slowly, more people trickled into the Steak 'n' Shake.

Every one of them wearing their Butler gear.

One Frisco melt and order of fries later, I was feeling better. Yeah, our team lost in the championship game, again. But how many teams even get the chance to say they had the CHANCE to lose in a championship game, a year after they had already lost in the championship game?

In spite of the loss, I am still proud to be a Bulldawg.


And Molly is still proud to be associated with those that are Bulldawgs.


And of course, Steak 'n' Shake is still the best place to go, in happiness, sadness, celebration, or disappointment.

Stop #14: Marion, IN (#290)

NOTE: Apologies for the absence these past couple weeks and the delay in getting these posted. I have no good excuse except that I've been recovering from the heartbreak that was the night of April 4. After the end of last year's national championship game, where Butler lost to Duke by just two points (see Brownsburg post), I didn't think it could be any more heartbreaking. That team went so far and did so well and held in there throughout the entire game against Duke. Even Coach K has said in interviews that he momentarily thought Hayward's Last Shot was going to go in and Butler would win, just 'cause it would have been a perfect ending for our "Cinderella Story" season. And still, Butler lost. When the time ran out, Duke was up, and Duke won, fair-and-square, and Butler, despite an amazing season, is forever the 2010 championship runner-up. What could be more heartbreaking than that? Nothing, I thought, after last year's season was over.

And now, the 2011 tournament teaches me differently. What could be more heartbreaking than that? Watching a team that you know has the talent and skill, just blow it. Watching a whole game, where your team just seems to struggle the entire time to get anything accomplished. Watching them get nothing but rim, while the opposing team gets only slightly less of the nothing but rim. Watching your team lose that way, that is far more heartbreaking. I'm only now really recovering from such heartbreak.

And now, to continue the quest ... with a post started some time ago, and not finished until now.

Stop #14: Marion, IN (#290)

Stop #14 happened on April Fool's Day, but was no joke. Why? Because April 1, 2011, was also Fear the Glasses Friday, in honor of Coach Brad Stevens and his ability to wear glasses and make the Butler basketball team do awesome things.

And Stop #14 took us to Marion, Indiana, which is also no joke because ... actually, I can't think of a reason. I really don't know Marion that well. Maybe it is a joke. I'll probably never know, as I'll probably never go back. After all, they've only got one Steak 'n' Shake up there.


Which brings us back to the most important part of the story, which is that we (me, Kathy, Rachel, and Jen) went to the Marion SnS for stop #14 in the quest. With Jen working in Marion and Rachel living there, that left only me and Kathy to make the trip up.

We, of course, got lost, and ended up here instead.


So we detoured for a bit to check it out. Kathy likes old things, a lot. And this is actually on the historic registry, apparently.


Which was also motivation to check it out. Besides, who knew Marion had anything so interesting? Maybe I will have to go back there sometime in the future.

Us getting lost wasn't too terrible, though, because Rachel and Jen were also a bit late in meeting up with us. Kathy and I were still the first ones there.

So we got started on some artwork, to cheer on our bulldogs in their next NCAA game against VCU.


Kathy decided to go with a basic and all-purpose "Go Dawgs!" sign. I approved.


I went with a more artistic sign, specific for Saturday's game. It's difficult to see here, 'cause VCU's colors include yellow, meaning my artistic rendition of them was essentially yellow stick people. Butler was, of course, in blue. And there was a basketball. Which actually probably looked more like a volleyball than a basketball, 'cause that's just the type of artist I am. It was captioned, "See Butler," above the blue stick people, "See VCU," above the yellow stick people, and "See Butler beat VCU. Go, Dawgs, Go!" underneath it all.

I know you can't see any of it, but trust me, its there. And you really can trust me, 'cause I've just described how entirely awful my artistic abilities are. Now, what would my motivation be for lying about being a crappy artist?

Yeah, I thought so.

Jen and Rachel also showed up eventually, and Rachel decided to join in on the signage fun.


Rachel decided to incorporate the back of the Steak 'n' Shake placemat in her "Go Dawgs!" sign, highlighting the eggs they use to promote their breakfast menu and writing a cheer of "Crack 'em Dawgs!"

I think Rachel earns the creativity points for this trip.

And as much as I love Jen, the Dynamic to my Duo, she loses on this trip in the participation category for not making a sign at all. However, she wins points for joining me in ordering the fish, as it was, after all, a Friday in Lent. We'll call those "Kudos to Catholics!" points, and this is likely the only time I'll ever award them because, a) Lent is nearly over, and b) I'm about 50 percent sure I'll never award points in this Steak 'n' Shake quest ever again, though even if I do, it's going to be one of those super inconsistent things. (Like my recent ability to post! ha!)

While we ate (as mentioned above, fish for me, plus fries and a salad, and a "very berry" strawberry milkshake, which was actually incredibly tasty), we discussed our excellent basketball team.

And, of course, Brad Stevens and his glasses. And "Fear the Glasses Friday."

Kathy and I even decided to do our best "Fear the Glasses" Stevens pose.


Unfortunately, between my prescription not having been updated since probably at least as many years as Stevens has been coach before Stevens became head coach (ha! I dare you to figure out when my prescription was last updated.) and the fact that Kathy was wearing glasses that she did not, in fact, need (thanks Rachel!), I don't think either of us had any even remote ability to see how well we were doing in our poses. For all I know, I'm actually pointing at Kathy, and she me.

Note to self: Get new glasses sometime before you die.

And so, Stop #14 in our grand quest concluded. We decided to do our group shot outside for once, which was probably one of the stupidest ideas ever, 'cause it was windy (see papers) and cold (see hoodies/coats/huddled masses) and drizzly (see lack of umbrellas 'cause apparently we didn't really deserve our Butler degrees).