I am not a smart man.
For the last few weeks, I was operating under the notion that our five-man stag party collective would be spending three nights in Lexington, Kentucky, making our way through part of Kentucky’s famed Bourbon Trail — which, by the way, is not an actual A-to-B trail, but rather a series of distilleries scattered around a good part of the state.
Had I been paying any attention whatsoever, I would have known that we were spending two nights inLouisville, Kentucky. That, of course, had no bearing on the trip itself — Louisville is swimming in bourbon, as well, and two nights is 33 percent easier on the ol’ wallet. Thankfully, I wasn’t the one in charge of planning.
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