I have not been back to Lola since my first visit, but it is not due to lack of effort or desire. You can often find me pacing back-and-forth...outside Lola's front door on East 4th on a Friday evening....gazing longingly into the windows....undecided if I should act like schmuck and ask if there are any tables available (there won't be any...I know this), or just hang around and beg for scraps like a stray animal. I feel an irrestible pull to this place...like a black hole sucking my dwindling dollars into an unfathomable void. I remember my champagne smelled like bleu cheese and tasted like honey. I remember those unf---ingbelievable fries. I'm obsessed. I need serious help.
My wife has picked up on my behavior. I'll suggest going to a different East 4th Street restaurant for dinner...maybe Saigon, maybe Zocalo...but she knows this is just a deceptive ploy. She knows where I REALLY want to go.
I want to be inside you, Lola. We need to consummate our love again.