Last night, I went out to dinner with a friend of mine from graduate school. We were walking down Cross Street towards the market when we saw the hoard of college students and post-college wannabes standing along the strip of bars that make up Fed Hill’s night scene.

Even though we had plans to walk through that hoard towards the restaurant, we were both like “Uh, nooo,” and diverted to the right. We settled on an American bistro neither one of us had been to.

The place looked deserted. Apparently the Cinco de Mayo festivities had already trampled through and left. In the back dining area, one of the servers sat us between two other tables, one replete of the 5pm dinner crowd and another of a middle-aged couple.

The woman of the couple kept giving our server dirty looks, while a man behind us kept grumbling because they were out of his favorite wine. Continue reading →