About an hour down the road we found Williams, Arizona. Our campsite was just outside of town, so we went “downtown” to get some food. I put that word in quotation marks because there are just over 3,000 total people living in Williams, so downtown was smaller than my high school.
And there was a lot of weird shit happening in downtown Williams.
Apparently it’s a pretty big tourist town, especially in the summer, as it’s the closest town to the Grand Canyon that has hotels and restaurants. When we got there, a huge group of people was standing in the street circled around something. We couldn’t see what was going on, but there were cheers, “oohs”, “aahs”, and other odd sounds being produced. We had no idea what was going on and we steered very, very clear of it.
We got to the Red Raven restaurant (I never spell the word restaurant correctly on the first try). It was a little place with good reviews. The minute we stepped inside we asked the hostess what was happening in the street. “A cowboy dies every night in Williams” was her response. What.
Ignoring the potential homicide occurring a block away, we sat across from each other and checked out the menu. Our server was very friendly and was being followed by a bus boy who spoke about 3 words of English. We ordered – I got spicy shrimp with pasta that was really good. I can’t remember what Justin got, but he liked his food as well. We ate a ton of bread too. The restaurant (messed it up) was great – I’d definitely recommend it.
However, as I mentioned, weird shit was happening in Williams, and the restaurant (messed it up) was no exception. I finished my food and the busboy came by to grab my plate. He reached for Justin’s butter knife, but Justin waved him off because he wasn’t done. He looked at Justin, nodded as if he understood, but then looked a little confused (with the no English speaking and all). He began to reach for the knife again. Justin put his hand out and repeated that he wasn’t done eating yet. The busboy nodded his head in understanding again and started walking away.
Then it was as if the world went into slow motion, because I remember this moment so vividly. After a short chuckle about the miscommunication, I looked up to see that the busboy had only taken two steps away. He was still facing us, dish in hand, confused look on his face. He took one step towards us and was now directly behind Justin’s right arm, out of Justin’s view.
Then, like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the busboy reaches around Justin’s elbow and, in one swift pinching motion, takes one more stab at the butter knife. His pincers grab hold and he manages to lift it in the air before Justin notices and turns towards him. Holding back laughter, he tells him for the third time that he still needs the knife and grabs it from the busboy’s grip. At this point I’m failing so badly at stifling my laughter that I almost pee myself. The busboy smiles, nods in understanding, again, and walks away.
I laughed so hard I cried. It was one of those times that you think you’re done laughing and then it all starts over again completely. We laughed like schoolgirls for what seemed like an hour. This is exactly how we sounded:
Three minutes later, when we finally got our act together, we paid and went to our campsite for the night. All the excitement from Williams wore us out, not to mention the hiking we had done in the Grand Canyon all day.
We hit the sack. One short 8 hour drive and we would be in Los Angeles.