TRADE…SOMETHING…

Virginia Beach Day 1

This is not a restaurant review, per se.  It’s really not a restaurant review at all.  It’s more of a life review.  A day review, if you will.  I will.  So, I’m on a business trip to Virginia Beach (I know, LUCKY, right!!!) and I’m flying solo!  Here are the details:

Where:  Virginia Beach Hotel and Conference Center

Why: Work training:  Mandt – it’s a physical crisis intervention technique – I’m becoming a certified trainer this week

Who: Every crazy person in Virginia and surrounding areas

What?  So the first day of my trip wasn’t quite what I was hoping it would be.  The last hour of the driving part I had no reception on my phone which meant no real entertainment that I had any control of and if I made a wrong turn I’d have to pull over, find reception and hope that I could get the GPS to recalculate quickly.  I was cut OFF from my Ted Talks and couldn’t find a radio station.  My GPS kept giving me partial directions, but I found my way through traffic to the … place I’ll be staying.  Prior to arrival, I was pretty excited about it.  I hit a few minor road blocks once I arrived at my destination.

Parking was a pain.

Waiting to check in…pain.

Credit card stuff was a total mess, not the hotels fault, my work had to send the credit card elsewhere so…long story short…pain.

The people at the front desk were INCREDIBLY inpatient and just flat out rude.

I was grumpy, I was tired, I was hungry…I wanted to be at home where I could eat some predictably good food and hang with people I love.  Instead I was stuck here at what was beginning to look like my own personal hell.  After checking in, I took my bags to my room only to find that this hotel hadn’t been updated since, oh I don’t know…the late 80s.  Everything was dirty.  But it has a patio and a view of the water, sort of.  Hard to complain.  I exhale deeply and head to dinner.

The patio at the hotel restaurant I picked out of sheer convenience was beautiful. photo 1

The chairs pull right up to the deck and look out at the water, they have live music (even sucky live music is good on the water), and a great sounding drink special.  Vodka, juices, grenadine, cherries…$5…perfect! I’ll take it.  Sure, it tasted more like salt than anything else,  but I didn’t have to order another one.  And I didn’t.

Food was next to inedible.  I ordered the oysters, risky in June back in the day when refrigerators weren’t a thing but current information states it’s perfectly safe and delicious to order oysters year round.  NOT in Virginia Beach.

photo 2

The Dan’s Oysters (basically Oysters Rockefeller) were just fine, a little sandy but whatever.  The half shell on the other hand…they were grey in a way I’ve never seen oysters grey before.  And they were hard, and still.  When I shook the shells they didn’t move.  Smelling them, I should have been substantially warned by the vulgar odor that crept out of them.  BUT, I put one in my mouth, forced myself to swallow, and immediately chugged the rest of my water (somehow tasting like brine).  I ordered a glass of wine, politely asked that they return the oysters back to whence they came and thanked my lovely waiter for offering to take them off of my bill.  Being hungry still, I ordered the peel and eat shrimp.  You’ll notice a lack of picture evidence…mostly due to disappointment but also due to the amount of frustrated I was at this point.  While I was waiting for my shrimp, the chef came out to tell me that they oysters were just fine – they were warm water oysters – and I should have eaten them.  I thanked him for the information, and told him that either way, I didn’t like them and was grateful that he took them off of my bill.  He wasn’t happy, but walked away.  The shrimp tasted like flavorless pieces of rubber.  There was NO seasoning on them.  None.  I ate them, quickly.

I walked up to the bar to get my check, because it was way past time for me to leave this awful place, and as I did I overheard a very drunk woman, we’ll call her Rachel cause that was her name, swearing at the bartender for some very slurry reason.  She was kicked out, and stood at the bottom of the stairs attempting to let everyone know why.  As I walked down those stairs, I had no idea what was to come.

As I began my calm, relaxing walk on the beach, I heard”excuse me…wait…wait…” to which I gave no response, cause why would anyone be calling me?  “Heeeeellllllllooooooo? Hello? Wait…WAIT!” Oh, well so I turned to my right and saw the lovely lady from the bar standing beside me.

Rachel: Ugh, you walk fast.  And you’re so pretty!

Me: Oh, thank you.

Rachel: Your hair is SO pretty! And So wild, like me! (she reaches up to touch my hair, at which point I move slightly to my left).  Where are we going?

Me: I’m not going anywhere – I have no plan, just walking on the sand.

Rachel: Oh, we’re on an dadventure! Oh A RUNNER!! Oh, a runner.  I’m scared.  Why would you run on the beach? Why would you run with shoes on? I’m scared of that runner.  I’m scared of … someone…

At this point, I get a little worried that this woman may need my help and determine that I should probably try to determine if she needs police or psychologist.  I can find a man in blue, I refuse to assist with the latter.

Me: Is there someone you are worried about?

Rachel: Oh yes, John.  I can’t find him.  (to a child next to us) OH, you’re so beautiful!!! (mom runs over) SHE is SOOOO beautiful.

Me:  Ok, where did you last see him?

Rachel:  He left me here by myself and I looooove him.  I looooooove him.  He loves me, but he hates me.  He hates me.  We have a love/hate thing going on.

Me:  Ok (now I know…psychological assistance…not gonna happen…now I’m looking for my out.)

Rachel:  John would love your hair.  It’s so pretty.  You should come with me.  You should come have a pile up with me and John

Me:  No, I’m not going to do that. I’m going to walk back now.

Rachel (spotting a poodle): Is that a poodle! (walks towards said poodle; I walk quickly away). Oh, bye! Look me up on instagram.

On the way back, I met a very nice gentleman who, after I told him what I do for a living replied “BRAIN injury! I have one of those!! I was skiing and I crossed the street and got hit by a car! How do you think I’m doing? Because I recovered.”

Time to go to bed…I had a nice rest of the night watching the sunset on my patio.  Tomorrow would be a better day, it had to be.

And the moral of this story:  DO NOT EAT AT TRADEWINDS VIRGINIA BEACH HOTEL AND CONFERENCE CENTER…

http://www.tradewindsrestaurant.com

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