"The cool thing about strippers is that they're sorta like robots."

We have returned from Anchorage unscathed and slightly poorer. Anchorage remains as it was, having survived our onslaught.

The first night, we ended up at Humpy's despite Steve's earlier proclamations that he did not want to go to Humpy's at all during the trip. Tequila was shot, beers were drank, cookies were tossed, events were later recounted in the passive voice. (I know I've used that last line before, but I like it. So there.)

We were hungover enough the next evening that we didn't go out. But we did go to the mall during the day. I bought two shirts on clearance, which made me happy. It felt nice to act urban again.

I also kicked Steve's ass at frolf, and he restrained himself from calling me autistic.

Both Saturday and Sunday we did breakfast at Snow City Cafe. I love that place, despite their crazy long wait for a table. I bought a day-old discount cupcake that I then gave to Rowan two days later. The cake was not so good, but she did enjoy the frosting.

Sunday night we went to Glacier Brewhouse. The food was excellent, and allowed us to feel moderately upscale before we went to ABC (the Great Alaskan Bush Company, for those not in the know), which is most definitely not upscale.

I have never before been to a strip club without a pole for the dancers to use. This peculiarity left me considerably disappointed. However, there was no cover charge and the beer was reasonably priced, so the excursion was not a complete loss. The naked women helped, too.

(Please note that I do not seek to objectify women or, in the words of a drunk Dude, "treat objects like women, man." I just occasionally like to appease my base desires. If it was socially acceptable, I would walk around nude. Those who know me know that this statement should not be doubted.)

The trip back was uneventful, though I was a little nervous about eating a several-day-old discounted turkey and American croissant that I bought at the Cantwell gas station.

***

As I was making the music mixes for the trip, Steve asked me if I was going to include any Faith No More. I didn't, but he included "Epic" on his mix. He then proceeded to use this word as much as possible throughout the trip. We even coffeed up at Epic Espresso on the ride back. When he returned to work at the library on Tuesday, the first book that came across his desk was titled Epic.

Was our trip epic? Most likely not, depending on most accepted definitions of the word. However, the traditional epics grew from acts of constant retelling. So in time, perhaps, the trip will be epic.

But most likely, it will just be remembered occasionally over beers. And I'm alright with that.