Sketchy Vermont, hey!

It’s always been my belief that not nearly enough pictures are taken inside public bathrooms. In fact, except for one excursion to the Smith Art Museum and its cool ass artsy bathrooms, I’ve never done it myself until now.

First, here’s a classic from this performing arts space in Brattleboro. While I get the concept I also wonder if that leads to any quandaries for someone who just stank the place up:


And, on a less pleasant note, this one comes from the fine restaurant we dined in that evening:


Yes, so anyway, dinner. You know, on previous trips to Vermont, I’ve been to some nice places–some quaint and homey, some featuring really great ethnic food (Thai, as you may recall), anything to cap off a pleasant day in the beautiful Green Mountains.

And, yet, sometimes you find yourself drawn to the place that all the sketchy locals are hanging out in front of. (They’re too cool to skateboard here, it seems. Standing around in the middle of a parking lot comparing nipple rings is enough fun for any Sunday evening.) So, yes, we ended up in a pizza place that, on its way to a primo location, seems to have been dropped accidentally in a parking lot and directly behind another building.

So there we were sitting in booths that had last been repaired when Mortimer Proctor was governor. Ever have a “booth stuffing” war? Good times, let me tell ya.

One interesting decor item was the tabletop of our booth. Under glass (see below) what I had first thought to be a straw mat was in fact, um, yes, thousands upon thousands of carefully arranged match sticks! What does their insurance agent think about that piece of decor? Another table had thousands of pennies under glass, while a third had some beer labels and some flattened beer caps. Clearly whoever had the idea of the crazy table tops lost their head of steam after two concept pieces and just started to crush the bottle caps of all the freakin’ beers he drank putting together the matchstick tabletop.


And, one of the better parts of the experience was all of the waiter/counter guy’s friends coming in and placing orders using spare change to pay for them and saying things like “I NEED to taste a juicy hamburg NOW!” with all the angst of early Morrissey.

And, as a final farewell to our sketchy dinner, we received the check from our waiter. Yes, with a big thank you and a playfully sketched skull-and-crossbones to boot! You can’t invent memories like this.


Oh, one final note–the food. Though ambiance was, indeed, priceless (I’m doing the quotation marks with my fingers right now); the pizza was actually pretty good, especially if you like that tasty but slightly greasy style of pie.

And finally, I guess I’m just going to have to resign myself to the fact that I’m going to have to adapt to a whole new style of travel, wha.


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