Saturday, March 03, 2007


'Tis nearly the wearin' o the green so therefore in the Middling City this means 'tis the runnin' o the tipplers. In essence Yours Truly means the annual Shamrock Run of course, the pesky race that wends its way throughout the historic Old First Ward, in plain view of the majestic grain elevators, the train tracks, the swill halls that remain.
This means that YT was dodging barricades and warmer-uppers en route to meeting in the suburb of Hamburg and am now in hiding with Blogger and NYT to amuse me until I am certain the coast will be clear, as military planners are wont to say.
Last night was a girlie meet-up with Jana at Ikea-ful Brodo which is never half full before adding Liz to the cast of characters, meeting her over at the nouvelle Scarlet on Virginia Alley.
This joint is confused, not confusing.
It is in the former Crash Club where crazed events and things transpired in the 90s and they have taken out all the mirrors, carpeting, brass railings and general architectural disguises to reveal a place with antique character - exposed bricks and beams.
The ol' b&b.
The owners or management were, apparently, not so sure if they wanted to make this a sports bar or an upscale dining venue so they aimed for a 50/50 aesthetical split.
There are sets prominent on the two-story wall with tastefully-arranged bottles of spirits placed just so, as well as some botanical embellishments.
Then there was the overwhelming scent of fish, obviously the exhausting of vapours was not thought out enough. It was strong enough that it made YT consider making an about-face and leaving as who wishes to subsume oneself in the wafting scent of fried foods and fishticuffs. We stayed. Liz came. We cocktailed. We left.
Will I return.
That is a question.
If it's on someone's to-do list and I am into seeing the to-doer yes.
Time to see if the runners, walkers, barricades, cops have left the scene.

Scenic, hideout Love.

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