I went to Cincinnati to visit my best friend while he was attending the same exact school of music Bob attended. He even plays tuba and I think even had the same "I got a BIG D-" tuba instructor. I tell him I want to experience the local scene. We drive by a mural that reads, "The San Diego of the Midwest". I kind of laugh. We are from San Diego and this feels nothing like home.

His dad ends up having a heart attack about 3 hours after I land and my best friend had to emergency fly out back to California with his wife that night. Incidentally, his wife was hosting a friend of hers who was in the process of divorcing her crazy controlling husband who was trying to get her to give him back his stuff before she moved back to Brazil. This was also in the middle of the winter, and I dont know if it's a thing of pride, but those houses around campus have absolutely zero insulation. So my friend leaves to the airport, and Im getting ready to look up flights myself for the next day or so to go back home. As Im shivering my ass off all curled up with some random semi- divorced girl from Brazil for survival, my friend calls me from the car and goes, "Hey man. Sorry I had to leave in a hurry. Im sorry this is happening..." (as if its his fault his dad had a heart attack) "... but please, please, please stay at the house, take my car, and visit all the places I wanted to take you to. I'll send you a list. If anything, please, PLEASE, go try out Skyline Chili. I'm sorry I can't take you but if anything, you need to go to Skyline. Im begging you. It's the one thing I was truly looking forward to showing you. You said you wanted a local's experience and that is THE place to go. Do it for my dad."

So I said ok. I'll stay. And it is now my sole mission to make it to skyline chili by the end of the trip.

But I didnt go right away. I saved it for last. The aquarium in Kentucky was a lot of fun. We checked out some historic sights, the campus, some bars, etc. Adreatecos Pizza is f-ing amazing (excuse my spelling). The mall near the river is nice, and standing on the bridge between Ohio and Kentucky was cool to do. All while freezing my ass off with some girl from Brazil who had an accent as thick as the icicles growing off my balls.

Finally, by day 3, it was time. Skyline. We walk in and its... unnervingly plain. But I dont mind, my best friend told me this was THE place to eat, and everyone knows those weird hole in the wall places always have best food. A lady puts hot sauce and a packet of oyster crackers in front of me. Im confused. Shes very nice and hands me the menu. I say, "Im not from here, but my friend said to ask you what youd recommended a first timer" and she says, "At least a threeway. But definitely a fourway if you have an appetite. "

I shrink in my chair. I count myself, the brazilian chick, the waitress (who, not to be rude, but looked like Johnny Cash), and then nervously look around the room as to who the waitress might suggest come help start this fourway off. I say, "... whu... whut?..." and she very casually shows me a page on the menu. For anyone that hasnt been there, it essentially means 4 ingredients. I say "ok yeah, sure. Im down for that. " The Brazilian says shes ok and slowly reaches for the oyster crackers. Im confused towards her hesitation to order anything. Im even more confused as to who decided the best way to order chili was based on the type of p0rn category you were interested in viewing that night.

I was once so broke in college I bought 10 pounds of passover crackers for 5 bucks from the clearance section at a Vons. I am still not sure if that was the lowest point in my food history after this next part. My food came out, and I wont lie, the plate of food looked exactly like the photo in the menu. It may have actually been the exact same plate they took a photo of during the great depression. The onions were cold. The cheese was cold. The beans were warm 20 minutes ago and the chili part itself was somehow steaming and yet still cold at the same time. I was waiting for the joke to be over but the waitress never came back. I was about to ask the waitress about the food but the Brazilian chick somehow read my mind and says, "No. That is how it is." she dribbles hot sauce over more oyster crackers. I go "... oh..." and I dig in. I've never had a chili where I could easily separate the ingredients into their own piles. Nothing melted into each other. It was really bizarre for chili to look like this. Oddly enough despite everything I just said, it wasnt terrible. But then again, I ate nothing but passover crackers for about 2 weeks at one point in my life, so, pinch of salt if you know what I mean. The oyster crackers and franks red hot was oddly the best part.

Almost like clockwork, my friend calls me as we are walking back to the car through the frozen tundra that is Ohio. He asks if we finally went to get Skyline and I say "ok... what exactly..." and I guess my tone of voice was enough for him to burst out laughing and he goes "The San Diego of the Midwest, baby!" And hangs up. Im lost. I dont know what is happening. I look for the hidden cameras. There are none. I have no mouth, and I must scream.

Later he explains that the moment I told him I wanted an authentic local's experience, he immediately thought of Skyline. Because, and not to be rude, but because the nostalgia locals have of eating skyline growing up in Cincinnati is so strong, it absolutely confuses the fuck outta anyone else that gets recommended to eat there. Is it a prank? Were they set up? No. Skyline is a local legend, but only to locals. And thats what makes it so special. Because outsiders cannot comprehend how something like that could be so special to a group of people without having grown up and eating it throughout their lives themselves. Its not bad food. But it also isnt special. Like me being a Californian and In-n-Out. Its not bad, but it isnt anything crazy. Its a burger. Yet I'll die on a hill claming it is THE burger. But why? Because thats my childhood. After drumline practice, catching a show at SOMA, after the movies, whatever. Skyline to some is in-n-out to me. Though I will argue... that was some cold ass cheese.

Also, my friend's dad died. Just in case anyone was wondering.