We Couldn't Call It a Night"It's too late to tell Erin and Rob," my uncle now repeated. Their cousin and his boyfriend were coming out for the event all the way from Reading. The short of it is that two people were driving over 90 minutes for bar trivia only to find out that we had the wrong date. Another cousin of ours drove about an hour. As the rest of the family arrived the young people (that being me and my cousin Dan) discovered the real date. It was on their Facebook page. My uncle replied, "Well on public access it said tonight." We explained he shouldn't use ancient civilization technology like public access and current information. "Well is there somewhere else we can go?" my dad asked. Given this was his brother's hood, he directed us to salvation.
In the Red ZoneWe arrived at what appeared to be a typical sports bar. Once inside though we saw that my uncle did right by his mistake. The place had upwards of infinite TVs, but most important had games. There was a shuffle board table and a beer pong tournament scheduled for that evening. We push a bunch of tables together so the 10 of us can pretend like we can all be in the same conversation together. The beer selection was way better than the recreation center, and the food delivered. Everybody walked away full and satisfied. I decided on a roast pork sandwich with some broccoli rabe. If you are at Reading Terminal stick with Dinic's and don't drive to Chichester. With that said this sandwich didn't stand a chance. I devoured it within minutes. The locals should cherish this restaurant. When I still lived in the suburbs this would beat out every other clown sports bar no question.
Beer Pong TournamentAfter many rounds of beer and shuffleboard we entered the beer pong tournament. The elders obtained, but cheered us on from the sidelines. My cousin Dan and Erin's boyfriend were one team. I played with my other cousin's roommate to fill out the second team. It was a double elimination tournament, so our family played a total of 4 games. We got destroyed. And we knew it would be the case. As the start time approached more and more swagged out 22 year olds filled the establishment. Their sweatpants, fresh caps from Lids, and well groomed chinstrap beards set the tone: these ballers can sink some ping pongs in some Solo cups.
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