We got up and hit breakfast, which was scrambled
eggs, sausage patties, and biscuits and gravy. I had
my usual given this menu, a sausage patty in a bowl
with gravy on top, so it looked like I was having
oatmeal. The gravy was sagy and thick and had a
decent amount of meat in it; the sausage patty was
not bad at all. I inhaled this and decided to go
back and was confronted with almost empty dishes of
everything except biscuits, which looked almost
untouched (Swisher reported that they were rock-hard).
It was obvious why there was one sausage patty left:
someone had taken a bite out of it and dropped it back
in the steam table tray. I took a small spoonful of
eggs instead and drowned it in the now overthick gravy,
which had little sausage meat left; no matter, the eggs
had almost the same texture as the crumbles had had.

On to Peoria Sports Complex for the rather ecclesiastical
contest between the Padres and the Angels. We got there
early and soaked up the splendid weather for an hour
before the game. Swisher had got us seats in the first tier
just off home plate, at an angle so I would have a fighting
chance to see something. I didn't - for the first time ever
I didn't see the baseball once, even when it was stationary.
As happens in real life, the clerics won, 6-2. Along the
way we demolished a certain quantity of beer, my choice
being a quart of Kilt Lifter from the local darling Four
Peaks brewery. The cost of this was 7x that of yesterday's
Natty Daddy for the same amount of alcohol, but the pleasure
factor was at least 7x.

We'd originally planned to see a game at Surprise, so
I'd booked the Hampton Inn Phoenix Surprise, and by the
time that had cleared up, all the places in Peoria and
Glendale were jacked up an extra hundred and so were
well into the 300s a night, that's US dollars. So the
Hampton at 233 plus tax looked like a bargain despite
being 10 miles farther out in the western boonies, so
we kept that reservation. They gave us a nice extra
large room on the top floor, quite comfy. Looking for
dinner, we found a Texas Roadhouse 0.7 miles away, so
that's where we ate, passing up the Village Inn, the
Outback, Carrabbas, and a massive number of fast-food
joints. This is truly the land of the chain. I had my
more or less usual, a sirloin, this time New York, with
sides of chili and chili. The steak, supposedly 8 oz
thick cut, was more than that plus a goodly section of
fat cap, as if it had been engineered just for me. I'd
asked for rare rare, and the genial waitress confirmed,
extra rare, right?, and it came extra rare. Here, the
rub is almost pure onion salt, so that was a bit weird,
but in general the meat was enjoyable. The chili, which
varies from franchise to ranchise, was bean-free but a
little overtomatoed; it was also surprisingly hot.
Along with, we each got a tall draft Dos Equis.
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