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The Indefinite Article.

Sunday, April 27, 2003

Looks like we're taking the weekend off, eh? Hello out there?

Taggart, Liz and I got together for drinks at Ernie's Friday, margaritas and gin and tonic and Amber dropped in later fresh out of class and meetings and we soaked in the sun and shade on the second story deck of the place drinking and chatting. Moved on to a despirately terrible dinner at Reggae Cafe "We'd like to start with a couple orders of Coco Bread..." "Sorry, but we're all out of that." "Okay, then maybe a small, no, large order of fried plantains..." "We don't have those either, the plantains, their all too green; they're making patties though..." No jerk chicken either and after ordering the goat I am amazed by the smoky taste of the rice. "Man, it tastes like I just took a bong-hit, I say, and after a couple more bites Taggart says it tastes like cigarettes and then it all tastes like ashes to me and we dither about leaving and how we should not pay for this stuff which had rapidly turned inedible. This was after the thoughts of just leaving since they didn't seem to have any of the stuff for which you go to Reggae Cafe. Liz talks to the waitress and after some confusion we leave for the Angelika to see The Pianist, which was a wonderful film.


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