On this particular night, several weeks ago, we were inundated with snow and there wasn’t exactly a lot of places to park. My companion chose a place he knew had a parking lot but when we got there we realized that it was for the building behind the restaurant and the parking was $30 an hour. I almost spit out a few teeth sputtering when I learned that. That also explained why the lot was nearly empty.
I hoped back into my trusty car and we nearly ripped off the bumper on the entrance to this parking lot which had a big old bump on a steep decline. Sometimes I hate having such a low slung car. I then went on to piss off traffic as I tried and failed at parallel parking before driving up the street and finding three open spots that allowed me just to slide in all cool-like. We walked back, me hoping the $30 parking wasn’t an inclination of how expensive the food would be because WHEW, that would be bad.
This place was bustling. There almost was nowhere to sit but we lucked out and got one of those tall tables for two next to a breezy door behind the fireplace. I looked around. Yuppies. So many yuppies. You know… college students and like-aged individuals who clearly were of the upper middle class and likely living on stipends from their parents or trust funds or whatever. Came with that weirdly tacky beach vibe decor. I raised an eyebrow. Maybe it was the bar. Maybe people came here to get too drunk to notice. But even that seemed unlikely. Though not my normal crowd everyone seemed to be behaving themselves.
We ordered a flatbread pizza and shared a side of potatoes. Both were OK. Just like the rest of this place. We weren’t displeased but not thrilled either. It was just the epitome of mediocre. I will say however if I were a college student who drank I’d probably be more enthusiastic about it.
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