| Thursday, November 17, 2005 |
| Spots and Hots |
OK - so how was I to know that such a GREAT Dive Bar existed about a mile from my house??
It's Molly's Public House, and she was the first person I met walking in the door last night. Of course, there was eebmore, in all his sexy new baldness distracting me from newcomers, so I gave him a good, solid, stubble rub.
Molly has an amazing establishment, with amazing art, and an amazing space - for someone who, I swear, is four feet tall and can't be seen behind the bar, but pulls a tap and slings a draft with the best of them. Seriously though, she is a wonderfully creative and talented artist.
Some things about Molly's:
1. It's long and narrow. The easiest way to the restroom is out the front door of the bar, down the sidewalk, and in the back door to avoid negotiating the crowd.
2. The ladies room is also the walk-in beer fridge, so you'll never know who might walk in on you, and you may have to wait if they need to restock the bar. Asking a male friend to stand watch outside the "Men's Room" is the popular option. Aside: Why do establishments with single sex, single stall bathrooms differentiate at all?? If there is a single bathroom available in any establishment, I take it. A lock/latch on the door guarantees privacy, and cleanliness is a combination of personal taste and tolerance.
OK, so where were we???
3. Molly's has food. A daily special, pizza and soup of the day/week. Wednesday night's special is steamed shrimp. I wasn't in the mood for shrimp, and asked Neckbone if he would share a pie with spots if I ordered one. "What are spots"? the lumbering ex military fraternity refugee replied.
Sigh. "You are really not from around here are you?" Spots on a pizza are pepperoni.
This lead to a whole discussion about 'Hots' and what constituted 'hots' (pickled Jalapenos were the popular answer, but the category of "cherry hots" is open for debate).
Meanwhile, back in the bar......
Snay was hugging anything that moved (or breathed for that matter).
Molly had an old door created for blogger logging, and excuse the quality of photos from my cell phone, but here is the answer to the "chalk incidents".
OK, a partial list of the conspirators...
Fool demonstrating what would become the "body art" of the evening - chalk hands.
But at last, we have
Zenchick.
All is right with the world.
Or......at least it was for a few brief moments on Wednesday, 11/16.
UPDATE: I forgot to mention the charity event of the evening. We took a collection for the two lovebirds, and they will have their own room at the next Happy Hour. They will have to share with these two alarmingly hip youngsters. |
posted by Broadsheet @ 9:06 PM   |
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| 4 Editorial Opinions: |
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I've lived in this area for years and years and years and worked in pizza shops for years and years and years and I've never heard anyone refer to pepperonnis as "spots".
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my ass is on the internet.
I feel as if I've arrived.
Either that, or I need to go into the blogger protection program.
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Nice to meet you, too Ms. B. I'm actually almost five feet tall. And I've never seen anyone in the pizza industry spell pepperoni that way, Snay. Also, the ladies' room has a hook latch so you can pee without fear of interuption...I look forward to seeing you again!
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Molly, we use shorthand in the shop, and besides - I can't spell.
(i.e., if someone orders a large pepperoni, I write '16" P')
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I've lived in this area for years and years and years and worked in pizza shops for years and years and years and I've never heard anyone refer to pepperonnis as "spots".