Branson: Day 2

So today started out on an interesting note. I woke up, got dressed, was slightly embarrassed by my mane of a hairdo, and went on to our complimentary “Continental Breakfast.” The food was fine but I noticed two guys sitting at a table in close proximity to ours. I didn’t really pay attention to them. After all, they weren’t that attractive or interesting. So I started eating and they headed out the door when a lady who worked at the hotel came up to me. She said, “Don’t think this is strange or anything, but a boy who was sitting in here before wanted me to give you his number and was too shy to ask for yours.” Oh please. No no. You don’t ask for a girl’s number through a hotel employee while standing at the glass door waving at my grandmother sitting beside me. You suck. Honestly? Go watch some movies and see how they do it. Because you’re weird and that’s just not okay with me. So anyways, I declined that fantastic offer (excuse me while I wipe off the sarcasm dripping from my lips) and told the woman no, that’s weird. I also didn’t even care to look back at the boys when they were waving. Oh, the life of a heartbreaker. I love it. So we went on towards the outside of Branson to the College of the Ozarks. I had heard raves about some restaurant at the college so we decided to make a trip there. But this isn’t a normal school like all the others I’ve toured before. This is a small Christian school with strict rules and a tough-as-nails working policy. Its nickname is “Hard Work U,” as is stated on plaques and banners all around campus. You see, the students here don’t pay tuition and don’t work up massive debts during their four years here. Instead, they pay off their tuition by working at one of the 50 or so student-run institutions on campus. Everything here is student led, which I found very cool. The waiters, waitresses, managers, bookkeepers, helpers, farmers, gardeners, and even firemen are all students at the college. Interested in learning more about this unique system, I grabbed two of every brochure I could find in the Keeter Center, a log cabin looking lodge, restaurant, and gift shop. It was beautiful and looked rather new, but we decided to come back for lunch. So Meme and I walked onwards towards campus, where we made our way into the library, chapel, museum, lookout point, lake, and other spots of interest. But we barely made a dent in the campus lined with paw prints, a symbol of the school pride here. Walking by everything made me feel peaceful and impressed with the vibe here. The lake was beautiful, the grass and trees perfectly green, and all the buildings seemed warm and welcoming. And students did all of the work going into creating this feeling. Young people just a few years older than I am. It made me proud and excited for college as an experience centered around the empowerment of youth. Oh and the guys working on campus were hella-attractive. My kind of place! On the left side of the school is a beautiful river and a picturesque view of the Ozarks (how fitting). It felt like this place could be a really great home, and an awesome opportunity to those who have a hard time paying such high tuition costs. So after walking back up the hill to the Keeter Center (a hellish task in 94 degree weather), it was time for what I had been waiting for—lunch. I had read reviews and heard about this place so much that I was ready for the best meal of my life. You walk into the restaurant, called the Dobyns Dining Room, and see windows making way for a porch overlooking the beauty of Branson. The restaurant itself has carved wooden chairs, brass embellished ceilings, and a cozy-yet-upscale feeling to it. We took our seats after relocating to a better-ventilated area (by suggestion of our adorable Hungarian waitress) and awaited a delicious time. Out came our drinks, which were raspberry teas. I gulped that down like it was water—I just couldn’t get enough and I don’t think the heat from outside was even a factor in that. Then came the bread, consisting of rolls and scones with little cast iron griddles with butter and apple butter for our delight. The apple butter was fantastic, and I mopped it up with the unbelievably perfect cranberry scones. I kept reassuring myself, “food is not a felony” and before we finished half a roll, our food was already out on silver platters. My Italian sandwich was good and the fresh fruit complimented both our meals perfectly. But we both tried to contain ourselves in preparation for desert. I’ll say it over and over again—the dessert was orgasmic. (Keep in mind how much I loathe that word.) I ordered the crème brulee trio, which was paired with a shortcake cookie and strawberry. The three flavors (chocolate, berry, and original) were served in little cappuccino cups (picture to come). They were mild in taste, but actually tasted great. But nothing could have lived up to what Meme ordered: Chocolate Cobbler. Chocolate cake, syrup, powdered sugar, and homemade vanilla ice cream all encompassed in a iron cast skillet. I love those southern touches. I could have died and gone to heaven (sorry for the cliché) after eating that thing. The cold ice cream and warm chocolate made an amazing combination that we couldn’t pass up. My smile couldn’t have slipped if someone slapped me in the face. It was just that good. No explanation of it will do it justice, so that’s about it for lunch. Except for the fact that all the waiters were cute and the waitresses were pretty. How does that happen? Good job C of O for only having attractive students. That’s a successful selection process. But in all seriousness, the working staff there was pleasant and excited to be there (or so it seemed). They were happy to fulfill every request and you could tell they loved their school, not only from their smiles but also from their stories. P.S. I bought a jar of the apple butter. (: Our only other event for the day was called Island Fire. I was, again, apprehensive about this one. I thought it’d be alright. The description consisted of Polynesian dancers and flamethrowers entertaining you and speaking a bit about their culture. The dances, costumes and songs came from Hawaii, New Zealand, Fiji, Samoa, and other islands beyond by spelling capabilities. At first, I thought the show was pretty good. It seemed a little unprofessional to me, kind of sloppy. But as the show progressed, it got better and better. There were about 9 cast members who actually originated from the islands discussed. There were four men and five women, all of whom displayed smiling faces the whole show. The men were muscular, sexy, and beautiful. And the women, of course, were perfect from their heads to toes. Dark skin, long black hair, and amazing ability? Sign me up! I wish I was from wherever they are. But anyways, my favorite was the main guy. I can’t pronounce or spell his name worth anything, but I know that he was attractive. He had the perfect body, face, hair, and a killer tattoo. I believe it was what the traditional men of his island have and it was so cool. His personality was brilliant as well. He was funny, strong, a good dancer, and pretty much everything a woman wants. So if you’re Samoan, hit me up! The show just kept getting better and better, and it finally peaked at the fire dancing. Two men (mainly the guy I’m in love with, though) twirled around flaming sticks while performing tricks that we in the audience ate right up. He lit his tongue on fire, did acrobatic tricks with the fire, danced with it, and came into the audience to give us a taste. I was frightened. But it was so interesting and exciting and fierce, and you could tell that the cast members were proud of their show. After it was over, we met them and spoke to the men and women. They were kind and friendly, which I really appreciated. So things here in Branson keep looking up! More to come, including some great pictures.