c. David Grim (taken 4/11/08)
I like to check out local business establishments whenever I have any remote reason to do so. I've settled into this particular neighborhood over the last half a year, and I've sampled some of the better eating options around town. One place in particular has some of the best pulled pork I have ever had the pleasure of consuming. But I'm always on the lookout for more options. And I don't have a sophisticated palette.
So, right up the street from me there's a new restaurant that's only open for breakfast and lunch. I had the rare occasion to check it out recently. It's a former drinking establishment, and people mostly just line up along the bar to eat. There's a surreal quality, what with all the empty liquor shelves and the wood paneling. But I had committed to the idea of trying something new.
I wasn't much in the mood for a chat, and had cracked a book open as soon as I ordered. But this blatant signal went unheeded by the proprietor, who proceeded to regale me with tales of her seven-year-old daughter/weekend waitress, and how much she loathed "gloomy days". I just wanted my food, but I tried to be polite. I ordered a grilled cheese BLT (which was serviceable) and the mac-and-cheese. This latter item was derived from this woman's grandma's recipe, and she was quite excited to have me order it. It wasn't good.
Finally I was relieved when the bill came. Unfortunately, the owner didn't have change for my $20, and so she had to send someone out. It was while I waited that she uttered words that no diner wishes to hear- "Well, I'm waiting for some sunny weather. I've had pneumonia for the last three months." Umm, yeah. My stomach churned.
No comments:
Post a Comment