Day Eleven, Kansas City, MO: Free Hot Dogs and Flying Saucers

I went to breakfast with my host, Greg, at McDonalds in the Plaza. I can’t say enough about that Deluxe Breakfast. Great value. After breakfast, we went to the Negro Leagues Baseball Museum, which was an interesting tour. The Negro Leagues had little structure for most of their existence, but at some times, their events rivaled those of Major League Baseball in size and attendance, not to mention player talent.

Following the museum we went to Arthur Bryant’s BBQ. Kansas City is famous for their BBQ restaurants. Arthur Bryant’s isn’t the most highly thought of among all the BBQ  places in KC, (Oklahoma Joe’s, which is located just across the state line, is supposed to be the best). However, Bryant’s was within walking distance of the museum.

Still having a few hours to kill before the game, we went to the Crown Center, which is easily one of the strangest places I’ve ever been to. Entering through Kansas City’s old Union Station, (left; built in the 1920’s to accommodate an increase in rail traffic which never materialized,) the Crown Center was created by the founder of Hallmark as an “Urban Experiment.” It has absolutely no clear identity, direction, or purpose.

Again, it’s difficult for me to describe how odd this area was. Think of an indoor mall attached to a 1920’s train station, with a large hotel located within, Corporate Headquarters-style decor (not surprising, as Hallmark’s headquarters are connected by skyway), and the oddest collection of shops you’ve ever seen. There was the Crayola Cafe (haven’t you always wanted to try the smoothie version of that Electric Yellow-colored crayon?), the Cat Boutique (?), Chocolate Factory, and Mobile Solutions. Mobile Solutions was really a microcosm of this entire urban schizoid aberration. At first, you might assume that the store carries cell phone cases, extra batteries, and things like that. In a way, that is correct. But Mobile Solutions also carries knock-off Calvin Klein sunglasses and an enormous selection of remote control helicopters. Like the mall it’s based in, it is designed for people with no clear reason for visiting and a fantastically short attention span.

It’s a small world. After arriving at Kauffman Stadium and buying tickets ($7), Greg, Marlene, Torey (a friend of Greg’s), and I enjoyed a nice KC-style tailgate. Kauffman Stadium is on the same general plot of land as the Chief’s Arrowhead Stadium, and thus they both share a parking lot that does not end. As it happened, we were parked next to two girls who were also tailgating. One of them was from Michigan and knew a few people I went to Albion with. It also turned out that they were sitting directly in front of us at the game.

Which didn’t make much of a difference, as we sat at the outfield bar for almost the entire time. Following this, there were a few more events that made this night incredibly remarkable.

First, there was a free hot dog giveaway in our rightful section, (which the bar directly overlooked). You know the kind where the girl trying to pay her way through college holds up three hot dogs and tries to get everyone to make an amount of noise that, were free food not involved, would be completely unacceptable? Whether it was the waving arms or my bar-perch that overlooked the section, this gracious lady decided that tonight was my night. This hot dog was the first prize I have ever won and I will never forget it. It tasted like delicious free.

Now under the impression that this new good luck  streak could only bring me more valuable free things, I immediately picked out the closest give away employees I could find (see picture). It turns out they were giving away hats, in this case. After realizing that I was not going to be getting a free hat, I settled for the picture to your right. Although I look a little distressed, I assure you that I felt fine.

As the game came to a close, I was witness to one of the most spectacular exchanges between two people that has ever occurred. While we were talking to a guy who was probably in his late 20’s, an innocent looking, 8-year-old-ish kid walked up. This was the result:

Guy: [With straight face] “Yeah, so this is my son-”
Kid: [Visibly flustered] “I’m not your son, for the last time!”
Guy: [Still straight-faced and unnerved] “Yeah, I have no idea who this kid really is…”
Kid: [Somehow even more bothered] “You’re such a dick!”
Guy: [Now searching his brain for some way to associate himself with this child, and saying the first thing that comes to mind] "Uh, he’s my AA sponsor.”

Of course we gave the guy directions to the bar we were headed to next and told him to meet us there. Not surprisingly, he didn’t make it there.

Really, the word “bar” does not adequately describe the Flying Saucer. They use the words “Draught Emporium” and I’m inclined to stick with that. The Flying Saucer has 200 beers on tap. Two hundred. And each beer has its own tap handle. The idea behind the Flying Saucer is simple; drink all of the beers. You have a membership card, and each time you order a beer, you swipe it. The beer you ordered is recorded, and when you reach 200 different beers, you get a saucer on the wall. Do it again, you get a different colored saucer, and so on. This is obviously not something you do in one night. However, it takes some people significantly less time to accomplish than others.

I usually get a positive reaction when I tell the people I meet what I’m doing. A lot of them think it’s a great idea. Some ask interesting questions, like, “What, did you just quit your job and go?” I laugh and remind them that I’m from Michigan, where people don’t have jobs. But invariably, most people express a desire to take a similar trip. Sure, some people can’t just get up and leave for two months, (especially if they’re lucky enough to have a job!) But otherwise, why not?

For more pictures, see http://picasaweb.google.com/reidksmith.