The first Saturday in October: Part 2

[muckefuck]

So what was monshu's idea? Earlier in the week, when we'd been shopping for furnishings at Room and Board, I'd suggested browsing some shops for endtables and lamps rather than getting everything from them. So his plan was get brunch at the diner at Clark and Devon and then head down for the afternoon.

It worked out beautifully. Unbeknownst to us, Andersonville was trying some sort of "arts walk". It was a bust as far as the art was concerned, but it may have lured in some of the eye-candy we enjoyed. More importantly, it guaranteed that all the shops were full enough that only once did we have the awkward experience of being the only clients browsing. We actually walked all the way down to Carmen from our place in Rogers Park and then back up as far as The Coffee Studio (whose brew is close enough to Intelligensia that I can stomach it).

On the way, we picked up hummus and dried things from Middle Eastern Bakery, fabric samples from urbanest, and Sicilian lemon cookies from Pasticcieria Natalia. I was I could say I was anywhere near as excited by the first two as I was by the last, but we all know that would be a bald-faced lie. What could I do? They were fresh from the oven. It was like eating sugar-coated childhood.

It's especially heartening to see what's become of the former dead stretch just south of Arkadash. At the bus stop across from The Coffee Studio, we observed three men hustling things into a storefront with the name Real Azteca. None of them looked particularly royal or Aztec, but I was sufficiently intrigued to ask for a menu--and discovered that, in fact, they were two Italians and an American launching a Neapolitan-style pizzeria in less than two weeks. We'll have to return to check it out (and hope that husky goateed Gino is there that day as well).

After dinner, we headed over to what is now my new corner pub, Jackhammer, for a nightcap. After and at times tense discussion with a bickering couple of acquaintances in the front room, we stepped out onto the back porch where I found a slim young bar buddy I've always been particularly fond of. We got into an intriguing discussion of religion that was unfortunately spiked by a drunken interloper that drove away both monshu and said buddy in turn. I could've been put out, but instead I was only bemused and gamely agreed to play a game of cutthroat with him and an older man.

Losing gracefully gave me an easy excuse to head over to head over to Touché, where I saw the Scoutmaster for all of about thirty seconds. I had hoped to discuss the showing of my apartment to some potential renters today, but given that it's in about an hour, I guess we'll just wing it.

An hour? Holy crap, what am I doing still here?

Comments

[richardthinks.livejournal.com]

None of them looked particularly royal or Aztec... in fact, they were two Italians and an American launching a Neapolitan-style pizzeria

heh. If you'd been in NYC they'd either have been Koreans opening a Mexican or Italians opening a Vietnamese, or maybe Mexicans opening an Italian.

an intriguing discussion of religion
really? That's a talent, these days.