For the Love of Lobster

On a mission to get that lobster roll.
I recently traveled to Maine for a work trip, which is one of the perks to my job at this point in time.  It’s both exhausting and rewarding, both getting to travel and logging in the hours for days on end while exploring new places.  But Maine, I’ve been particularly excited to check out for a long time now.

Little did I know the struggle that would make it seemingly impossible for me ever to have an authentic Maine lobster roll, the holy grail of the world of seafood.

It’s worth noting that little things annoy me on a daily basis that I have to push to the side because I, as a rational human being, understand that most of these things aren’t a huge deal, and I need to get over it and keep my thoughts to myself.

For example, the woman sitting next to me on the five hour flight to DC who woke me up by putting her ass in my face as she was try to get past to go to the bathroom.

Why she couldn’t wake me up to say, “Excuse me.  I’m so sorry, but I really have to pee,” was beyond me.  As someone with a pea sized bladder myself, I would have complete sympathy for the cause.

I told myself, “Relax.  She clearly is scared of your resting bitch face, just chill out.”

Just eating my lunch by the water, no big deal.
Then as we continued the flight, she kept sighing loudly and combing her fingers through her hair, pulling it out and throwing the rogue strands on the floor.  This was the point I openly stared at her in disgust and wondered what kind of drugs she was on.

I ultimately was glad she wasn’t trying to make conversation with me about nothing, so I counted my blessings and moved on with life.

When my coworker and I ran to our connecting flight in DC which we were concerned we were going to miss, we realized it was storming pretty badly.  So when we arrived at our gate, we were waiting for a plane just like the rest of the entire airport.

Luckily for us, our plane was at least there and let us board.  Things finally were going our direction.

That is until they informed us that while we were seated, and we had the first dibs at getting out of the airport, no one would be clear to take off until we got the green light after the storms cleared up.

So we sat there for two hours, talking about how all we had to eat that day was the snack they gave us on the first flight, going nowhere and listening to the restlessness of the other passengers.

Waiting on a plane for two hours, with no food, praying to make it to Maine before the grocery store closes.
Finally we took off and arrived super late. We headed to go get our respective rental cars so we could haul our asses the hour long drive to our hotel.

I was exhausted, and when the car rental man asked me if I wanted a pick-up truck I laughed out loud in his face and said, “What about me says I want a pick-up truck?  I want the smallest car you have.”

I know I look like hell after a flight.  Some women get off of a plane and look completely pulled together, but me?  I look like someone who hasn’t slept in weeks with makeup running down my face, crazy hair, and dark circles under my eyes.  Without fail.  Every time.  I couldn’t decide if my rough appearance made him think I’d want a pickup truck, but assumed I would never know the real answer.

He laughed and said, “So no minivan either I assume?”

“Do I look like a soccer mom to you?  I’ll take it as compact as they come please.”

I drove through Maine in the dead of night in my silver Nissan Versa, letting my finicky copilot, Siri, show me the way.

All in all it was a great trip once I finally made it there.  I worked a lot, but made sure to take the time to enjoy the cities I visited as well.

Streets of Camden.
It’s the little things like the smell of the ocean that I love.  And don’t get me started on the quaint little seaside towns.  I went to Camden for work but made sure to grab some lunch by the water while that was an option.  Everyone seemed chilled out, enjoying their vacations and going at a leisurely pace through life and taking the time to enjoy this surreal little bubble that seems to exist in the little towns.

My coworker and I made the trek to get a lobster roll one night (at a place suggested to me by my uncle) after we both met up at the hotel.  We drove to the coast, and even though she doesn’t eat meat, she sat there and asked a million questions about the taste and texture of a lobster while I devoured one of the best meals I’ve ever had in front of her, all while trying to convince her to give up being a vegetarian for one day, simply because it would be worth it.

The coveted lobster roll.
All in all this is one of the first trips I’ve been able to relax a bit and enjoy my surroundings and take some time to soak in the laid back, waterside vibes.  When I left, I was shocked at how quickly a week went and wondered when I could go back just to enjoy it as a traveler.


4 thoughts on “For the Love of Lobster

  1. Is the selfie of your travel companion or the woman that stuck her ass in your face, ‘Cause the latter would be amazing. I kid, I kid I met your coworker on our trip to Seattle.
    Lobster……’Nuff said.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. NorEast lobster is the best, but you will have to go back to York Beach New Hampshire and have a whole lobster eaten on a picnic table with a checkered tablecloth while wearing a bib! Now that’s the bomb lobster!

    Liked by 1 person

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