Before I go into details about our mini vacation to the land of welcoming southern folk, I must first explain what happens when my brother and I get together. As children, Jay and I fought like cats and dogs. Being three years apart, Jay the older, we despised each other from about the time I was 5 and he was 8. I like to say that I loved him so much that I tattooed his forehead with a nice claw mark that he donned on his first communion. Clearly this was just a sign of affection from his dear sister. I scratched, he teased. I screeched, he tormented. We were made for each other from the start. These fights dragged on for years, never to leave a dull or settled moment in our parent's lives. When he turned about 21 and me 18, our relationship shifted and we became best friends and partners in crime. I know, it sounds ironic that I decided to stop scratching him when he become of legal age to buy me beer right? Purely coincidental, I swear.
Several years and many travels later, Jay and I were reunited, ready to take on yet ANOTHER city. Somewhere along our travels our duo was dubbed "The Hanagan Hurricane." I'm guessing it was my husband or sister-in-law who named us this, as they tend to be our two "caretakers" when we are out on the town-the honorable Midwesterns that they are. When Jay and I are together, we instantly pick up speed and swoosh in and out of public places, taking down innocent people along the way. We usually manage to "bump into" random people, befriending them and taking them into our stormy tunnel. Well, while I was visiting Charleston I wasn't about to let my part of the hurricane dwindle simply because I had a child. No way, I was reuniting with my big brother, armored with my bag full of silly antics. In the midst of our foursome's bar hopping, I decided to make a goal of getting 100 high fives from random strangers while confessing my love for guinea pigs. Off the wall, weird and bizarre, right? If you know me, you get it. So I collected high fives as we made our way through Charleston dwellings such as Closed for Business, Blossom, The Mad River Bar and Grill, and my personal favorite, The Griffon. The other three of my foursome giggled and cheered me on along the way as I got stares, sometimes bordering on fearful looks. Jay was right by my side, defending my love for guinea pigs.
My very favorite victim of this high-five extravaganza was a gal who surprised me with the best possible response ever. While simultaneously shouting "GUINEA PIGS RULE" and retrieving a high five from this gal, she responded with "YES, GUINEA PIGS DO RULE-ESPECIALLY THE ONES WITHOUT HAIR-THEY LOOK LIKE LITTLE BABY HIPPOS!" A girl after my own heart. Maybe she was as crazy as me. Maybe she was just another piece of the storm that The Hanagan Hurricane left in it's travels.
So, I leave you with this-Charleston is an awesome city to visit and GUINEA PIGS RULE!!!!