The Martha Stewart of Tailgating

Rewind 365 days. Florida Keys Guy and I, along with another couple drove up to Tampa to see Jimmy Buffet in concert. Acting responsibly, we stayed at a hotel with a shuttle service to the concert. Enter 1.75L of Patron Silver tequila.

We arrived at the amphitheater parking lot with no car, but oodles of food and beverage. Keep in mind this had to be entirely disposable, as we had no place to store chairs, or a BBQ, during the show. We found a nice, shady spot amongst what seemed to be fun people, and parked ourselves.

Most people at tailgate parties eat burgers (in this case, Cheeseburgers in Paradise), wings or subs. Me, not so much. Not only do we have things like salmon arugala sandwiches and tequila spiked gazpacho, but we generally have enough for at least twelve people to be grazing consistently for hours on end. Did I mention there were 4 of us? So, we share.

I make friends easily at these kinds of events. Especially if they came in an RV (read: don’t have to wait for a gross port-o-potty). But, even though I am an only child, I am a good sharer. Which means that anyone in a  20 foot radius, or anyone with a bathroom, gets to indulge.

One such woman happening by, seemed to have lost her friends, and as she noted, we had better food anyway. As she was slurping some gazpacho (“What is this? Ga-huh? Did you say this is soup?“) she pronounced me the Martha Stewart of Tailgating.

I don’t shlep BBQs (or have a staff to do it for me), I eat mainly vegetarian and I overfeed everyone around me. So, Martha, you’re really coming in a distant second here.

Back to the present: I am once again driving to Tampa, with the same crowd, a closer hotel and a slightly tweaked menu. Oh, and we’re adding mint juleps to the mix. We will not need to find a ride back to the hotel, and will hopefully only pee in actual bathrooms, or RVs. Stay tuned for a recap.

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