Gordon, you and I go back a while. It's time we had a talk.
For years we were beautiful together. I enjoyed so many tall glasses of the Martzen, so many baskets of the garlic fries, so much time looking admiringly on your servants dressed up in those creepily evocative brown shirts. Thanks to my Bay Area connections I spent more than a few nights in your care in your San Jose location: The original joint! Hell, on one occasion I was actually mistaken for one of your founders by another regular.
So it makes me wonder what's happening in Tempe. It looks like the whole place hasn't had maintenance in a while. The beer is still good. I've decided to restrain myself from the fries, but they still smell great. But it's as if the whole building is wearing a sad face.
I know that the assh . . . I mean City Fathers . . . yeah, that's it. . . of Tempe raised rents on everyone on Mill, hoping to turn Tempe into another Manhattan. We can tell how that worked by how many boarded-up storefronts there are. Everyone else has bugged out to the Riverfront or whatever that is over on the other side of Rural. You are standing firm, and that's to be admired. But see, the longer you stay the more I kinda avoid that location. I'm afraid the fail wave is washing up against your shores as well.
So I would do what needs to be done to dress the place up a bit, or make plans to move. Don't miss the tide.