The Steak Night went superb. Over 100 people came through the 49 seat Ardill bar over the course of 7 hours. Everyone had a great time, good food and lasting memories.
My cousin Patty got even more out of it, collecting bits of half-eaten steak from returned dirty plates, out of the garbage and off the floor. She kept them in a large container and brought them home for her dog. At 5am, Shyanne, her friend Pudge, and her other friend Mike returned home from a party. They were starving and spied Patty’s container of steaks…
The next morning, as we sat around the table drinking our coffee and chatting about the previous night, the three looked on in muted horror as they watched Patty feed her dog from that container. When Patty explained to the table where the steaks came from, a new family legend was born.
So far Shy, Pudge and Mike seem to be okay. I figure the large quantities of alcohol in their systems at the time, may have insulated them from anything bad in those steaks. In any case, don’t ever eat steak on the farm if you find it sitting on the counter at 5am in an old bacon bits container.