Day 18: Out of my shell

"Crab and hula hoops, that's what Maryland does." 

Like Sundays after a Scott Lee/Mark Tanjutco production, you can tell it's close to the end of a long road trip when you no longer care when you wake up, as long as you eventually do so. I wake up at 11:20am, just enough time to enjoy a muffin and get ready for the long day ahead.

With a cooler-than-cool friend of Collen's in tow (and Scott Lee East Coast Circle of Friends version of Eileen Hansen to boot), we head out to Annapolis to my first real crab house experience. We strike out at our first stop, which has an hour wait despite being located in the middle of nowhere and being 3:00pm on a Saturday. We nearly run out of gas before arriving at Buddy's for what is to be the most interactive and educational eating experience on this trip.

Zeal, one of Collen's strengths/weaknesses, is in full effect when she decides two dozen crabs should suffice. It should be noted here our next stop is an engagement party that may or may not be semi-formal. It starts in 45 minutes and while me and Scott are wearing shorts, the girls are dressed the part. Here are things I learned while trying to eat six whole crabs, at a rapid pace, for the first time:

• Don't wear a white shirt, even if you pride yourself on being a cleanly diner. If you are of the messy variety, don't even wear white underwear. 
• The male crab has a Washington Monument, the female a Capitol Dome. You start disassembling the crab at either of these points. 
• Scott Lee learned the above fact in school, where they learned how to clean a crab in class. It may also be how Scott's parents taught him about the differences between boys and girls.
• Use the provided tools. Your fingers will get tired and you will get crabby (bad pun, intended).
• Much like chicken wings and bbq, you will smell like crabs and old bay long after you finish eating. Crab houses might be the incorrect venues for pre-gaming engagement parties with people you've never met  before. 

As expected Scott and Colleen make quick work of their respective half-dozens, cleaning and eating with the efficiency of seasoned pros. The rookies at the table fair slightly worse, but respectable for their first times, with no major injuries or stains achieved. The crab is deliciously clean and fresh, the process fun and social. I wish we had hours to sit and talk and crack shells, but the bride- and groom-to-be await. We get through a total of 20 crabs, taking four home with us on top of a bag of ice and bucket purchased at the neighboring CVS.

About an hour past fashionably late, we arrive at the engagement party of Matt and Anne. Scott went to high school with Anne. Colleen lived with her. Georgina, our forth, went to undergrad with her. Everyone appears to know everyone else several times over. Outside of the three people I came with, I have met one other person previously. But just like the rest of Scott's friends, these are good people, and they welcome me with warm smiles and cold beer. Anne, of vivacious and contagious energy, is particularly welcoming and it does not go unnoticed by her last-minute, appreciative guest. The future bride is glowing; a combination of the good friends she's in the company with and the spectacular Maryland heat, which has reached new levels of intensity. I have no words to express the warmth I felt as I ate barbecue under a tent outside and now have  a newfound respect for the phrase, "at least it's a dry heat". While we made our share of tactical errors (list coming to a blog near you soon), Scott's call of shorts today was one of the greatest clothing decisions of 2010.

At the party, I hula hooped for the first time in nearly a decade. And by hula hooped, I mean I failed to spin a plastic hoop around my waist more than three times before it fell to the ground, costing me a chance to advance in the bracket. And by bracket, I mean a 48-party guest bracket for champion hula hooper. Predictably the tournament concluded with three females vying for the title. Unpredictably, the winner was not the woman who could walk, dance, and drink beer while hooping nor was it the pregnant woman who was a former rhythmic gymnast. And that's the beauty of competitive hula hooping, on any given disgustingly muggy Saturday…

Tomorrow, I fly home.

Meghann Glavin Highlight of the Day:

Mike:  Attempting to clean crabs
Scott:  Watching Mike attempt to clean crabs

Tomorrow's Agenda
Route: Baltimore > Seattle
Estimated Distance: 2,740 miles
Estimated Time: 6 hours