Let's Do Something Stupid... Weeeeeee!!!!!!!

Brawnee Inn was our next prospect.

We walked in. There was a very long line extending through the lobby that we practically had to play "Red Rover" with in order to get through to the front desk. The girl at the counter came around and asked us what we wanted to see. Rob joked that he wanted to see what everyone was in line for. She smiled wanly, and told us to follow her. She walked us about three feet, and into the "Grand Ballroom". Danielle was the first one in, and she spun on her heel and tried to shove me out before I even set foot in the thing. I poked my head over her shoulder. It was as big as a living room, and designed by IKEA. There was a faded sea-foam green carpet that stank like cigars. Plus, it stank like cigars. Rob, having not one gracious bone in his body made the negative "uh-uh" noise and stormed out. Danielle, Tom, and I followed meekly. On the way out, we passed the line again. Rob tried to cut in front of someone with the excuse that he had to pee, and this must be the line for the bathroom. Uh-uh. 

It was a line for a wake.

Yes, it is truly possible, that if you get married in their stinky living room (with French doors that open up to a garage) that in the next room over, they could be holding a dead body and everyone that wants to look at it. 

I'm not THAT goth. Sheesh.