Best burger in town.
Right across the street. At 1720 Central Ave SW -- Route 66 Malt Shop. Little diner type place with all the kitsch to match its name. Run by an old hippy who asked me where I work and said he played one of his first gigs there like thirty years ago. Always felt Foxes would be a decent live music venue -- apparently it already has been. He also seems to run the pedicab company next door that does luminaria tours.
You simply *must* try their blue cheese green chile burger. It's right up there with the Owl Cafe in San Antonio in terms of sheer distinctiveness -- I've never encountered anything like it before. Made to *perfection*, through and through. Danish blue and fresh-ground meat on a toasted bun from some little local craft bakery. Not too fancy, not too plain. Perfect. What diner food *should* be.
Homemade root beer, too.
Some lady backed her brand new fancy jeep into my car, denting the driver's side rear passenger door and exchanging a lovely maroon stripe on my white car for a white one on hers. Flipped into doorman mode and flash memorised the license number, but she stopped and got out and said she was so sorry. I just opened up my car, checked to make sure the door still opened, and it did. If she had dashed off I *so* would have called the cops on her right then and there. But she didn't, and my car's pretty trashed anyway. I smiled and laughed and said "it's just a piece of metal, no worries". Not worth the wear and tear on nerves, and now it's like my birthmark people think is a black eye -- a conversation piece that makes me look like I've been through worse than I have which keeps people from messing with me.
I'm going to get a little sleep now. Considering running down to El Paso for a couple of days if I can get Alex to cover for me Monday night. If I do that I'll need some rest beforehand, 'cause I'll be leaving right as I get off of work.
You simply *must* try their blue cheese green chile burger. It's right up there with the Owl Cafe in San Antonio in terms of sheer distinctiveness -- I've never encountered anything like it before. Made to *perfection*, through and through. Danish blue and fresh-ground meat on a toasted bun from some little local craft bakery. Not too fancy, not too plain. Perfect. What diner food *should* be.
Homemade root beer, too.
Some lady backed her brand new fancy jeep into my car, denting the driver's side rear passenger door and exchanging a lovely maroon stripe on my white car for a white one on hers. Flipped into doorman mode and flash memorised the license number, but she stopped and got out and said she was so sorry. I just opened up my car, checked to make sure the door still opened, and it did. If she had dashed off I *so* would have called the cops on her right then and there. But she didn't, and my car's pretty trashed anyway. I smiled and laughed and said "it's just a piece of metal, no worries". Not worth the wear and tear on nerves, and now it's like my birthmark people think is a black eye -- a conversation piece that makes me look like I've been through worse than I have which keeps people from messing with me.
I'm going to get a little sleep now. Considering running down to El Paso for a couple of days if I can get Alex to cover for me Monday night. If I do that I'll need some rest beforehand, 'cause I'll be leaving right as I get off of work.
posted by xeltifon at 2:43 PM
1 Comments:
Great diners like that kick so much ass. I went to one in Santa Cruz when I was there last November named the Saturn Cafe. I had already eaten dinner so all I got was a milkshake to go but it was quite good. Even left a tip, heh.
Sucks about your car, but yeah when they get old enough, it gets to the point where its not really worth worrying about dents and scratches here or there, heh.
The concert last night went fairly well, though it sucked to have to stand on a hardwood floor in that club for a good 3+ hours.
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