Truckin’ at The High Dive
Though we’d come for the pub grub and smooth beverages, our visit to Truckin’ at The High Dive ensured that my friends and I (“We’re the Worst”) have a shot at Plateau Immortality. Truckin’ at The High Dive is located at 476 Carolina Way in Highlands.
My friends and I didn’t realize that our comprehension of Life and the Universe and the vagaries of human understanding would be tested during our Thursday night visit to Truckin’ at The High Dive.
We’d truly come in for conversation, some adult beverages, and, as Stuart reminded us, some “delicious, deep-fried food.”
We were ready to talk, really talk. And the task was made even smoother by a well-stocked bar operated with cool efficiency by a pair of nimble-witted and quietly confident barkeeps.
Smiling, they plied us with drinks designed to ease conversation and add a measure of passion to our observations and declarations.
For Michael, that was a straightforward Ginger Beer with Bourbon, as pure and bracing as a glacial lake.
For Serenity, it was a New York Sour, a generous pour of Jameson’s with lemon juice, a dollop of syrup, and a float of red wine. And that wine really does float. It’s hypnotic, like something you’d see in a Tiffany display window.
Stuart stuck to beer, and he delighted in the deep menu of craft labels.
And for me, it was a simple glass of cold green tea. Sipping, I could imagine myself as the great philosopher Dong Zhongsou, who formulated the principles of Yin-Yang cosmology and postulated that the application of poetry could enhance the efficacy of Chinese medicine.
And then the products of the Truckin’ part of the High Dive Equation belly flopped onto the table and, sure enough, we all finally owned up to our own versions of Stuart’s dream of “delicious, greasy food.”
This was pub food of the highest order.
We all shared in baskets of warm Shoestring Potatoes and didn’t hesitate to furtively sample Michael’s Deep Fried Dill Pickle Chips (keeping this concoction hot and crisp is Michael’s go-to test of a kitchen’s adroitness).
There was also a wonderfully indulgent Cheeseburger, a basket of Nachos topped with everything good, deep-fried Chicken Tenders, and a Veggie Burger that was every bit as delicious as its Cheeseburger cousin across the table.
At some point in this face-first plunge into the trough, I lost all notions of celestial harmony and poetry.
But here’s the thing that elevated our evening from a fun night out with friends into something that’ll resonate for decades to come, far beyond the confines of the Plateau.
No, it wasn’t a round of billiards at that beautiful table huddled in the back. It’s pretty clear that Serenity would run the table, and the previous 17 months had already provided the Three Amigos with enough petty humiliations and assaults upon our manhood to last us through 2037, thank you very much.
It was the fact that we’d arrived at The High Dive on a Thursday, which turns out to be Trivia Night!
All four of us have noggins stuffed with random fatuities and foolishnesses, so we were primed, as long as the questions had no bearing upon Newtonian reality.
And sure enough, they were the acme of wing-nuttiness!
Our team, the now-immortalized We’re the Worst, earned Top Honors and went home with a stout beer glass and a t-shirt.
That’s not to say we were faultless, though. We were stumped by, “Name The Five US Presidents Whose Last Name Starts With A Vowel.”
We were able to easily select John Adams, John Quincy Adams, Dwight Eisenhower, and Barack Obama. But that fourth guy? Nope.
Want me to give you a hint? He led the effort to regulate importation of soybeans from Puerto Rico, which later became an embargo against all agricultural products from that Spanish territory.
That’s right, Chester Arthur! We’ll be back for Trivia Night at Truckin’ at The High Dive, and you’re welcome to be a part of our team! Remember, We’re the Worst!