Rolled out of bed and out the door early to meet Brigid, Bayou Renaissance Man, and Miss D at the range. Roomie begged off the trip, being laid low with a headache of epic proportions thanks to the wild barometric gyrations going on around here.
As I was going through the Mickey D's drive-thru for some emergency stomach ballast, my phone started ringing. It was Brigid, telling me that Iggle Crick was closed for the GSSF match. Having but a single Glock amongst the four of us, we decided to fall back and punt. (Although I was sorely tempted: Given the number of cars there, the odds of a free Glock were probably pretty decent.)
Brigid pondered aloud on the idea of going to one of Broad Ripple's famous breakfast joints. I McThrew the rest of my McBiscuit in the McTrash and off we went to Zest.
(By way of response to docjim505's comment here "Some of our sales force describe the culinary horizons of Indianapolis
as being somewhat... limited. As in, "You CAN get a good meal there;
they have an Applebee's."", photos of yesterday's grub at Brugge are available here, and Brigid's camera was whirring at the table this morning, so there will probably breakfast-chow-type food porn along shortly. Your sales force will thank you. :) )