Monday, May 19, 2008
Leave the gun, take the cannoli
We went to dinner in Edmonton's Little Italy (or as I pronounce it, IT lee) and had pizzas at a place called Santos. It was classic. There was a restaurant down the street on the corner where some older men were sitting on chairs by little tables on the sidewalk while younger men milled around.
Santos has off track betting and some VLT's and old bald men with racing programs. Trotters and thoroughbreds on several TV screens. A mix of hockey and azurri futbol posters on the wall.
Thin crusted pizza with fresh ingredients and a plump, large breasted waitress with her thick hair in a big bushy pony tail. She noticed my ring and didn't just ask about it. She grabbed my hand and asked about it as she pulled it up for a closer look. I like that. She gave me attitude and I gave it back.
She reminded me of me.
We went to dinner in Edmonton's Little Italy (or as I pronounce it, IT lee) and had pizzas at a place called Santos. It was classic. There was a restaurant down the street on the corner where some older men were sitting on chairs by little tables on the sidewalk while younger men milled around.
Santos has off track betting and some VLT's and old bald men with racing programs. Trotters and thoroughbreds on several TV screens. A mix of hockey and azurri futbol posters on the wall.
Thin crusted pizza with fresh ingredients and a plump, large breasted waitress with her thick hair in a big bushy pony tail. She noticed my ring and didn't just ask about it. She grabbed my hand and asked about it as she pulled it up for a closer look. I like that. She gave me attitude and I gave it back.
She reminded me of me.
// posted by sinner @ 8:51 PM 
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