Who would dip or chew while go-karting or playing skee-ball? Really, Arkansas?
After I creamed Doug in a game of miniature golf, we played the favorite games in the arcade (Lets Make a Deal, air hockey, and a difficult turn on Dance, Dance Revolution), and somewhat sweatier, left Lokomotion.
We'd packed a small lunch and we headed for the shores of Lake Fayetteville, which is about 200 yards north of the Lokomotion place. The lake is close to the mall but on the other side of a hill such that if you don't go over the hill, you'll never see the lake. Doug didn't even know it was there.
We found some shade on the banks of Lake Fayetteville where we spent a tranquil hour eating sandwiches, staring at the waters and planning where to go on the honeymoon. Our view looked like this:
Purdy, eh? It was a nice quiet afternoon with (thankfully) no dipping. Either in the lake or into a tobacco canister.
Purdy, eh? It was a nice quiet afternoon with (thankfully) no dipping. Either in the lake or into a tobacco canister.
No comments:
Post a Comment