The Best Laid Plans

Actually, I never believed that MICE made many plans. Planning doesn't seem like a mouse activity, which would be more confined to eating, mating, nest building and avoiding the mean hungry cat across the hall.

On the return trip from the Sea Islands, we were going to spend a night in Charleston, out on the town so to speak.
Except the night was Friday and every motel/hotel in town seems to be booked. Must be having a crab convention or something. Many of the lodging places want a two or three night stay on weekends. Many cost $200+.

Onward. we'll have a late lunch in Charleston, then walk around a bit. Drive to Myrtle Beach. I have to confess I always sneered at Myrtle Beach. It seemed like the kind of place where you would find men in too tight tee shirts, shorts and black socks with white sneakers. Even wife beater undershirts. Maybe it's the word "Myrtle."

By the way, Building 19 here in Boston got into hot water for advertising wife-beaters, which is what everyone calls them. Those sleeveless t-shirts with a low neck. Not worn by wall street types. I'm not describing it too well.

Back to Myrtle Beach: there must be 100+ hotels and none of them looked like what we wanted. High rises. I don't like high rises. Wanted more like a beach front bungalow or maybe a couple stories with ocean view. None to be had. We checked out Pawley's Island and a couple other locales and didn't see anything very appealing either. So we're going to wing it, and hope to make a serendipitous discovery. Plenty of good seafood places in Pawley's Island.

I'll let you know what happens. If you read the next post, I'll have a photo of a wife beater. The undershirt not the bad guy. Grapeshot runs a politically correct blog. Sort of.

See ya!