Tag Archives: restaurant

google image searching


We’ve taken to Google Image Searching when there’s nothing else to do and we want to pass some time.

You will find the weirdest stuff.

Like Dutch fast food operations who base their entire menu off of the boat aesthetic. (Entrees are served in scooped out little loaves of bread and pressed / formed potato pancakes which resemble boats.)

BRILLIANT.

And I thought people only wanted to visit Amsterdam for the pot and the Warhol museum.

Ya’ll think I got a blog too.

*pass the meatball-boat please.

running the gauntlet

totally crapy candid

It was supposed to be my Wednesday off, but it seemed crazy to take a day after being gone for two weeks so I forfeited to Kevin.

Worked on site for a while and ran some errands which put me in striking distance to dad who offered to buy me lunch.

His new favorite place to go for lunch is Miss Sherry’s Cafeteria. He says he’s a “Jr. Geriatric” and in training. True – when we walked in we were easily the youngest people in the restaurant.

The cafeteria is the second rev of the same one I used to go to with my grandma as a child…. Tucked into a low-slung 60’s stripmall on Lindbergh.

It’s a familiar format…. You grab a tray and stroll down the long, one-sided gauntlet of hot-lamp bathed food, all carefully blanded down for the discriminating senior pallet.

Simple seasoning aside, the food does have a home-cooked quality to it and I’m sure that’s why pop likes it.

So I grabbed my tray, awkwardly tried to inconspicuously take a photo with my huge camera, (not very successful) and picked up a plate of salmon patties, a dish of 3-bean salad and a dish of stewed tomatoes.

We sat and enjoyed our lunch while enduring questioning looks from the patrons… (the kind of looks you’d suspect a 15 year old would get who bellied up to the bar at a local tavern).

I went on to my next meeting.

I figured I’d not blog about it.

choke


elise’s boys

The school year has now started.

For little Andy’s “Last Supper of Summer” he requested not Chuckey Cheese… Not Hamburgers… Not ice cream… Nope.. Not Elise’s kid… He wanted Vietnamese and the presence of his three weird uncles.

We headed downtown to the ethno / bohemian strip of downtown, (South Grand), where you can get such things.Middle finger

It’s a small, yet outrageously successful restaurant called Pho Grand. I ate cilantro and chillies till my eyes watered.

Boychick was ecstatic. We quizzed him about his expectations for the third grade.

Elise would later lay a heavy, HEAVY honor, (and responsibility) at our feet.

She asked us if we would become Andrew’s god parents.

At age 8, it seems late in the game to be assigning these titles – but I didn’t ask why they hadn’t found anyone before when Andrew was born.

We were choking for words when Elise said, “don’t tell me now… think about it.”

What pursued that evening was a teary conversation between the three of us.

We rode a wave of flattery, honor, apprehension and fear that night.

Kevin cooly theorized: “What IF something happened to Elise and Andy? We’re not talking about getting a dog here.. Do you think we could handle that kind of responsibility? Even in the abstract because he has both sets of grandparents still living.”

Is anyone ever “ready” for that kind of responsibility? I’d argue “no” – but you assume what you have to when the need arises.

My heart broke imagining if something ever did happen and my eyes glossed over again. For if it did, that little human would contain the last earthly traces of one of the most precious people in my life. He would be protected and loved as if he was our own.

The concept of sacrifice never comes up when you’re wrestling with concepts like this.

I’m starting to choke up again,… I am NOT however, blogging.

exploitation

hooters and the trouser trouts

Worthy of a page of it’s own. After the AIDS Walk while milling around Union Station – the boys got hungry and I got a wild hair…. “Let’s go to Hooters”

Chad nor Kevin had ever eaten there. I was about 19 the last time I’d been.

Turns out one of Chad’s co-workers who was with us knew the manager. (The Hard Rock Cafe is right accross the parking lot from Hooters). So not only did we get 50% of our meal comped, but I got the photo-opp of the month.

Can’t say the food was terrible.. Typical for a chain… The Buffalo Chicken sandwich was tasty, although a bit overpriced.

Not a problem though – I would have happily paid $20 for a sandwich if it meant we’d get a group photo with the waitresses.

Just too damn campy to resist.

Instead of trying to explain to the nice young ladies about how I “don’t” maintain this online journal thing where I post photos and stories – I simply just said we were looking for a photo to use as this year’s Christmas Card.

They bought it… I’m sure they’re used to having their photos taken and being ogled over. Probably what they “weren’t” used to was a camera wielding, non-blogging, kitsch-seeking triad of dumpy gay guys.

so.. I exploited them… But I can sleep soundly that I did so for unconventional reasons.