rev:text
| - Some nights, during the summer, it'll be sauna hot, a cloud of humid, sweat smelling air hovering around your table, but your pie'll still come out luke-warm-cold, while your beer's all unpleasantly tepid, and you'll swear you ain't comin back.
And then you will, because it's the best damn beer selection in the city, and you'll gamble, getting an egg on your mushroom pie, and hell if it doesn't come out perfectly - just solid enough to keep it together while you grab a slice, glossy yolk still runny, making an otherwise OK pie stellar.
Pizza roulette. I'll keep playing.
|