Oct 28 Sun, West Asheville, North Carolina



“Hey…where you at man?

“I’m at (anonymous), where are you?”

“Not sure, let me find a cup of coffee… and my bearings and I’ll call ya back in 20.”


I knew I was in a parking lot in West Asheville, but having parked the car along Haywood Rd. and after walking to many of the fine establishments this area has to offer the night before, I lost track. I lost track of my friends (or they lost track of me) and the location of the windshield wiper blade switch…which an anonymous passerby-er-err was kind enough to assist me with. She even gave me a hug and tucked me into the front seat of the car.

I drove out from behind the buildings and onto Haywood and immediately pulled over.




“West End Bakery, I’m at –“

“Hey, do you know where the West End Bakery is?  (“Yep,” said a voice from the background.) Right on man…we’re on our way.”


I walked into the bakery and my senses began to yawn and stretch when the sounds and smells burned through my fog brain, brain fog. I actually felt pretty good, considering. Hungry, I glanced at the menu but thought best to wait for my friends. “Coffee, please.”


After they arrived, the four of us sat down and I ordered the “Trout Bagel,” a fresh everything bagel with fresh cream cheese and topped with fresh, local caught trout.

Although I only ate half and offered the other, it was scrumptious; a word my mother used to use comes to mind to best to describe.


Over the course of a few more cups of coffee, we shared comical details of the night which included the fact that I was now coat- less. Through all the doors I passed, there must have been one room in one bar that was a little warmer than the others, and that’s where my coat must be. The only clue to where I definitely was, after playing the process of elimination, was revealed when I pulled a pack of matches from my pant’s pocket.

After we exchanged handshakes and hugs with our new friends, my friend Tomas and I set off on a quest for the coat. (By the way, all names I use in this blog are fictitious, to protect the innocent and respect their privacy you know. And it maybe true…we all have an identical twin…somewhere.)

“Man, I’m sure glad I’m not a dentist,” he said, looking at his choppers in the rear view mirror. “Why?” I asked, buckling my seat belt. “Cause I probably would have tried pulling some teeth last night!” Oh right…”The Hangover.”


We found the coat, like the matchbook said, and what was in the coat pocket was in the coat pocket. Desoto’s on Haywood has some good karma points coming their way but I get the feeling that’s just how the people of Asheville are.

From the moment we rolled into The Riverside Arts District and made our first stop at The Wedge, I could feel the coolness in the atmosphere, and I’m not talking about the effects of hurricane Sandy who was casting her gusty winds across the NC Mountains that Saturday afternoon. I’m talkin’ about the whole vibe, the art, the architecture and most for sure, the people. From the locals to the bartenders who worry about your well being rather than the tip jar. To the wait staff, to the young lady who stopped to help me out, thank you. The West End Bakery… you were right where I needed you. And to our new friends, who live in Asheville, thanks for accommodating.


About travelingchair

I simply want to share, my journey with the chair.
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