how the restaurant where we dined last night can continue to exist in such a high rent district with such bad food. the clams were rubbery, the white sauce consisted of oil and pepper, the salad dressing was wishbone and the bruschetta made with a ton of dried oregano.
i'd name the restaurant, but if it's a front for something, i'd prefer to refuse their offers.
ah well. we went for cannoli afterwards which made the outing worth while.
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Plus the waitress kept saying I was a doppelganger of a friend of hers. I’d like to dine as myself, thank you very much. Otherwise it gets messy.
A friend of mine went into a nearby barbershop that he suspected was a front for the Irish mob, and tried to get an appointment. They wouldn’t give him one. When the owner went in the back for a moment, he flipped through their appointment book and saw that it was empty. He is not, as they say, overburdened with a sense of self-preservation.
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