It took me seven-and-a-half hours to reach Charlotte, North Carolina by automobile. The purpose of my excursion was to visit the University of North Carolina at Charlotte. Believe me when I say that there was a lot riding on this campus tour, and, unfortunately, this can lead to high and even uncultivable expectations.

It’s was just after 8 p.m. on Thursday night when I pulled into the Springhill Suites outside of Charlotte. I checked in, got my stuff out my car and headed straight for the room. A few minutes later, I came back downstairs to get some information about the city. Looking around the lobby and check-in area, I don’t see the brochure rack. Finally, I ask about it at the desk.

“Charlotte?” the girl behind the counter asks blankly. “Why would we have anything on Charlotte? We’re Mooresville.”

I didn’t know they had Valley Girls in the Piedmont!

The tour itself was 27-minutes long and covered all of the common areas of campus. Our guide was enthusiastic, but never said much about the buildings we were passing. Most likely, this was because of the threatening clouds. Also, there were only two other students on the tour. Whatever the case, it was extremely disappointing.

Of the two students who partook in the tour, one was a jock with an orange shirt similar to the one I was wearing, except “CLEMSON” was across the front of his. He had a beige baseball cap as well. The other student was a lithe slacker type with a faded green T-shirt and a tattered teal cap. You can see my pictures below if you are curious to see what I was wearing exactly.

When the Clemson jock asked the guide why she wasn’t saying anything about the buildings she responded quite rudely: “If you are curious about something, you should have asked. We can’t read minds and answer all of your questions if you fail to ask them.”

Fuck this. I returned to my car, and it was off to find my and our next adventure. Problem: I’m in a strange city and have no idea what to do or how to get anywhere (since every street downtown is one way). I’m also burning daylight, and my cell phone is busted (in half). So, its 4 p.m. and I’m in some random mall off RT-77 getting directions to some other mall about 10-miles away where I can get my phone fixed.

Saturdays are not meant for early wake-ups, but continental breakfast ends at 9 a.m. First non-food item on the day’s itinerary? Dead Sea Scrolls at Discovery Place. Unfortunately, it was “sold out” through Monday. Plan B? Please, I’m not that smart, but, occasionally, I am lucky.

Scalpers! This woman stops me as I was leaving claiming to have extra tickets that she could sell me (full price, natch) since the rest of her party passed on this outing. Semi-desperate times…

Regardless, I had less than three minutes before the next tour. I’m about to enter the waiting area when I am stopped by a security guard. Somehow, I got the feeling he was ex-military.

“Is that a camera around your neck? There is no photography in this exhibition! You have exactly 2.5 seconds to put that camera where I can’t see it before I remove it from you! Do you un-der-stand me? Now go.”

Just a feeling.

While in the waiting area waiting to enter the exhibit, I was given a self-guided audio tour by what looked like an oversized cell phone. This contraption basically read everything that was hanging on the wall - which was good because it was so packed in there that I couldn’t situate myself anywhere close to the artifacts, let alone the wall text. But, what little I could see was impressive: very detailed wall plaques, tremendous amount of items, and a nice fluidity between areas (despite being “sold out”).

If I had thought of it, I could have gone to the Levine a block or so east of the Discovery Place. But instead, I went across the street to The Mint (‘cause it was there, not due to the positive write up I briefly scanned in CreativeLoafing). I paid five bucks and spent 15 minutes strolling through their galleries. Then I walked back six blocks to the lot where the car was parked, and headed off to the natural history museum over in Gastonia (also in North Carolina).