Thursday, March 26, 2009

PDT (please don't tell)


the burger at 'crif dogs' was overcooked, the girl made us wait 45 minutes before we were allowed to exit the grease trap, but once we slipped into the phone booth and emerged in cocktail narnia, it all made sense. brightly colored drinks, intricately mixed in modest chalices went down all too easily. ah, this is the was a speakeasy is supposed to be! who needs all the bootleggers, cops and riffraff when you're in the company of strangers and the owner is buying your drinks.

p.s. do not order the burger at an establishment famous for its hot dogs.

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