The Last-Ever Meal At Peter's Grill

I started this blog post just with the title.  It was July 3, 2013.

The place closed for good July 29, I think.  I had never been there, but after 99 years, a place that had a solid connection with Old Minneapolis was going to close, and I felt the need to connect to it.  And sure, maybe the irony of being a first-timer to Peter's Grill on its last day was too much for me to resist, but I went and, after a long wait where all the servers were too busy helping others and, I guess, trying to rectify the death of an institution that was a part of their lives for so, so long.

And I think I hesitated to write this blog post for so long because ... well, I eventually forgot.  But I remember taking a picture of my meal, and I wanted to, for the first time, post a picture I took myself in the blog post, but I never learned how to upload a photo onto Blogger.  And then I think I began hesitating as to whether I wanted to put a picture I took myself onto WAF for identity reasons.  Whatever the reason, I don't know where that photo is now; the ones on my cellphone go back only to 2014.

I remember sitting at the bar and I was told that all the food was gone by the time I got there.  I may have played the woe-is-me card because someone, and it very well could have been the owner, heard my sob story, went to the kitchen (and I could see into it from my barstool), and took what appeared to be a prepared dish.  I don't think it was going to be given to a customer; I got the impression that one of the workers prepared it for him or herself, either because they were hungry over their busy day or they wanted something to take home to eat and/or remember Peter's Grill by.  And this guy, presumably the owner, took that and gave it to me.  It was a tuna sandwich.  Can't say I was blown away, but it was, and is, important to me that I had a piece of Peter's Grill before it shut down.

But assuming that tuna sandwich was for someone else, I feel bad.  Sorry.

It was packed in there.  Which raises the usual issue that if it were packed before it closed, the restaurant wouldn't have had to close, now, would it?  But hey, it's a downtown restaurant, and those are vanishing by the minute because it's so hard to make money when you cater mostly to people coming to and from work.

I just read that the owner blamed food trucks for permanently crippling his business.  Well, this is also ironic, but as I have heard, there are no more food trucks in either downtown since the pandemic.  So many companies decided their employees could work from home during COVID that food trucks determined there was no longer money to be made downtown, either.  Maybe that has changed since we're now six years beyond the pandemic.  But I haven't heard of a glut of food trucks invading downtown Minneapolis every lunch hour.

You know, I assumed I would have more to say about the death of Peter's Grill.  Well, shelving this blog post for 13 years shortens the story, I guess.

Where Are The Lilacs?

Just noticed, while I was eating frozen pizza in the dining room just now, that I didn't see the lilac trees in my backyard didn't bloom.  They usually bloom some time in late April/early May, if I'm not mistaken, but only for a week.  Now, I've been hella busy, but I want to think that I would have noticed if the lilacs bloomed because they are pretty and fragrant, and I would've gone to the backyard to see and smell them.  I have yet to do that ... or did not do that, one or the other.  So it's possible I didn't notice, but it's more likely it hasn't, or didn't, bloom.  If not -- damn, what's going on?

Wood Splinter Might Be The Death Of Me

I finally decided that we won't have cool days where the heat kicks in, so I removed all of the blocks and plastic tarp Father put on and around the outdoor condenser to protect it from the snow.  One of the things on top of the condenser was a large but thin piece of plywood.  Stupid me didn't put on gloves before doing this bit of yardwork, and when I grabbed this, I touched a shard of wood that pierced my skin.

I washed the area and, if I am right about where the puncture was, I put a bandage on it.  But if my hypochondria is justified, I am still feeling a bit ... oogy.  So, if I don't wake up in the morning, you'll know I died because of, uh, complications from this wood splinter.  Just an FYI.

Well, I'm still drinking way too much alcohol; drank a Bloody Mary for the second consecutive day.  But hey, at least ****e finally got back to me this morning.  It would've been too late anyway, but she said next weekend would be better.  And then she sexted me a picture of herself in a dress with convenient holes, shall we say.

So, next weekend is it.  But I have this nagging feeling she'll change her mind, damn it.

I'm A Desperate, Horny, Forgetful Goddamn Lush

So I'm starting this blog post at a quarter to 4 in the morning.  I'm doing what I want to do over an extended holiday -- staying up, surfing the Internet, listening to music (this time terrestrial radio on my boombox).  But my cellphone is plugged into my power bank.  The fuckin' thing is pissing away energy.  I juiced it up to 80% last nigh, then unplugged it like you're supposed to, but then within, oh, half an hour of active doomscrolling, it couldn't even hold its charge for that long.  When it dipped to 76%, I plugged it in again, hoping I would unplug it once it reached 80% again.  But I knew there was a chance I'd be distracted by looking at my laptop, and of course I did.  It soared well past 80%, which I hear is bad for my phone (even though it's already in not-great shape).  At this point, if it's already past 80%, I might as well charge it all the way so I can delay when I need to charge it up again.

That's the forgetfulness I hate about me that reared its ugly head over the past 24 hours.  This past evening I made myself a cocktail, a margarita featuring juice from a lime that I bought over a week ago that may or may not have spoiled.  I drink too much already, so I'm trying to hew to the "1-2-3" rule Dr. Vivek Murthy recommended in his last days as President Biden's Surgeon General.  The problem, I realized while drinking the margarita, is that that was my fourth drink of the day.  I started off with a bloody mary in the morning while watching the English Championship Play-Up Match (won by Hull over Middlesbrough in a 95the Minute Goal), then had a cider at the United FC Match, then had a beer with a Farina Rossa pizza after the Match at a craft brewery.  And this is on the heels of drinking three drinks Friday ... and two drinks Thursday ... and two (or was it three?) drinks Wednesday.  All I can say is, I drink a lot.

Oh, MNUFC has a program where you can drop off pop tops at their waste receptacles.  I have a pile of them, and I was going to bring them with to drop them off, but I forgot to put them into my cargo pants.  I didn't leave them in my cargo pants because, unlike my denim jeans, my cargo pants don't have that fifth "watch pocket," and I didn't like the feeling of those pop tops jangling around inside a big pocket on my cargos and potentially falling out if I'm sleeping in my car and put my legs parallel to the ground.  But all day yesterday I reminded myself to put those pop tops in my pants.  But I didn't.  Oh, and then I took out the pop top on my Wild State cider intending to deposit it ... and I fucking forget to do that, too.  I meant to be rid of these pop tops, and I wound up collecting more.  And even though there will be a MNUFC2 Match at Allianz Field in one Month, the Loons are off because of the World Cup for two Months.  Fuckin' great.

And all the while I've been trying to see if I can arrange a fuck session with ****e.  Earlier last week I texted her; no answer.  I texted her again, saying I am free either today or tomorrow; she just said, "ok."  She gets this way sometimes, minimally responsive and vague.  I asked for clarity while eating pizza and eating beer last night, but she has yet to respond.  I'm horny enough that I want to make booty texts to all of my stripper girlfriends (even though a lot of them are out of town this Memorial Weekend, dammit) so I can get some lovin' this long, lonely weekend.  But ... fuckin' A, ****e is the only one who'll let me inside her, so I gotta give her every chance to get back to me.  But what if she's on one of her episodes where she ghosts me?

This weekend is supposed to be fun.  In many ways, it is.  And I am seeking every which way to find the negative in all of this.  Maybe that's a sign that I should fix myself instead of just rationalizing my decadence and inattention as part of enjoying the long holiday.  Or, maybe I should just say fuck it all.

I Don't Believe Her

So my cousin, who I haven't seen in at least a quarter-century and whose son is going to medical school here, wanted to know when I was free, right?  I asked if I could get back to her in the middle of the week so I could figure things out.  Well, the soccer results being what they were, I texted her on Wednesday -- like she asked me to -- and I told her that besides Saturday and Sunday morning, I was totally free for the weekend.

Then, nothing.  Well, I hadn't heard from her until yesterday/Friday.  Since I moved up my speakeasy visit from last/Friday night to Wednesday, last/Friday night was free for me, and that's when the both of them would get into town, so I figured that if last/Friday night was the only time the two of them could see me, I should text again.  She got back to me ... and she said sorry, they're busy, they can't see me this time around.  Maybe closer to the beginning of school, when they come back, but not now.

Sorry, I don't buy it.  At all.  She reached out to me, out of the blue.  She then called me, enthusiastically, asking when we could meet.  All I asked for was a few days and then I would get back to her, which I did.  And then my cousin just says, basically, whoops, can't see you?  I don't understand the about face at all.

Sure, I'll be dark and conspiratorial.  Maybe she decided that me asking, oh so gently, for some space and time was a rejection to her.  She took that as a sign that I didn't want to see her at all, which is not true at all.  My only other theory is that Father talked/got to her.  He had some dumb fucking thoughts in his head that when I said I needed to get back to her later, I really meant that I didn't want to be bothered, and so he told her to lie and say that she and her son realized they were busy.  I can't think of what else it could be, because I don't believe her when she texted me that they're busy.

Honestly, this hurts.  She wanted to see me and now she doesn't?  I blocked out some time and moved around some things so I could spend an afternoon or evening or day with them.  She basically said to forget it.  Don't understand.

I can't do anything except wait until my cousin and cousin once removed supposedly come back late in the summer to see if they really want to see me.  If they do, and we meet up, great.  If not ... why in the hell did she even ask for my phone number?

Oh, by the way, because my Friday night was free, I went back to my original plan of greeting The Beginning Of Summer by going to my speakeasy.  Yes, it was the second time in three nights.  I can't quit the place, and after this emotional whiplash, I needed a couple drinks.

You know, the big drawback to going out all these days is my disincentive to brush my teeth.  Sure, I have plenty of time after I get home to do that, but I'm tired and there are other things I need to do.  For example, I got home from gorging myself at the Kickoff To Summer At The (Minnesota State) Fair, and I had to buy chocolates online, then I had to watch intently the last episode of The Late Show With Stephen Colbert, and then I had to blog post, so now I'm too tired and I have to go to bed!  When will I ever have the time to brush my teeth?

The Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey

#-1: Twins (Last Week: -1).  Once again I am struck by how turgid the Twinks have been playing but still having a not-implausible shot to reach the playoffs.  Amazing that a 4-3 screening Week doesn't sink a team, but these days it gosh darn well elevates them and gets them jobs.

I'm tired, so that's all I have to say.  Well, that and they travel to Boston for three at Fenway Park over the weekend, then they travel to Comiskey Park for four Games beginning on Memorial Afternoon.  Some people enjoy a baseball Game on a holiday.  Me, I think I want to just stay home and not even open my door.

#-2: Lynx (Last Week: -2).  Olivia Miles can dish like no one's business.  But can she develop a jump shot?  And how is she on Defense?  Because although they gutted out a four-Point Win over The Bastard Detroit Shock in Dallas Thursday, the Wings followed it up with a defeat at home to Chicago.  While Miles may have solved the Lynx's Point Guard problem, they now have a frontcourt (or lack thereof) problem.

Host Toronto tonight/Friday night, then at Chicago Saturday afternoon, then home to Atlanta.

#-3: United FC (Last Week: -5).  Lost to New England, 2-1, on a stupid, stupid pass to the Revolution that was slotted home for the winning score.  That means they're in a funk, going winless in their last three Matches.

Saturday afternoon they host Real Salt Lake (it was originally scheduled in the evening, but then James Rodriguez signed with the Loons and network TV quickly put MNUFC on as many of their windows as possible to maximize eyeballs ... little did the media stakeholders know that Rodriguez was going to leave the squad after just, oh several months at the helm) in the last regular season Game before MLS goes on almost a two-Month sabbatical.  

#-Infinity (tie): Timberwolves and Gopher baseball (Last Week, respectively: -3 and -4).  I'll say it: The Timberwolves' window is closed.  It is highly disappointing to see them go out like this, with three of the four Losses to San Antonio being blowouts, worst of all at home in the fatal Game 6.  The way they went out is highly disappointing, and it has to say something about the construction of the roster, namely 1) they miss Donte Divincenzo, even though I don't know if they would've won with him; 2) Rudy Gobert helps the Timberwolves defeat The Denver Nuggets and only The Denver Nuggets in the playoffs; and 3) Julius Randle was as cold this postseason as he was hot last postseason, but he'll be the fall guy because the team took a step back by being eliminated in The Western Conference Semifinals this Year.

But we can all see the reality: The squads the T-Wolves lost to in the last two playoffs, the Spurs and The Bastard Seattle SuperSonics, are the class of the NBA now, and Minnesota is not.  Blow it up?  Hate to be a nihilist, but I can't say no.  Winning a title is the only thing that matters, and unless the Wolves get super better (or San Antonio and Oklahoma City get hit with a rash of injuries in the same season), it'll be those teams for the next, oh, half-decade.  Minnesota will be a lot older in five years' time, so the only way they get better is to bite the bullet and trade for youth or the undervalued -- or shit, man, trade for anything that loosens up the constipated Offense.  And even that acknowledges that there will be no champions in the immediate horizon.  All I can think of is that in retrospect, the 2024 postseason was this club's champs.  Home-court advantage over a team three Seeds below and who had one guy (Kyrie Irving) basically playing on one leg -- and the Timberwolves lost???  Damn all of us to hell.

Oh, yeah, the Gopher baseballers.  The armageddon scenario happened: The Gophers get swept at Siebert in the final regular season Games of the year to a highly-skilled Nebraska team, and that pushed the U. below Michigan St. for the twelfth and final spot in The B1G Baseball Tournament.  Finishing on a five-Game losing streak doesn't make Ty McDevitt a bad Head Coach, but it doesn't make him a good one, either.  And since I am very tired, that is all I have to say about that.

Could my cousin want to visit home?  No, can't let her.  I'll say I'm too busy to arrange coming to the house, or I'll be running around all weekend and I can only see you someplace.  But shit, man, can't let her visit the house when it's like this.  That would be bullshit.

Need to make sure I keep her far away from the house.  Maybe I'll lie to keep her from even bringing it up.

I've Given Up And Am Going Out A Lot This Week ... Again

So I've bitched often (though not in the past week like I thought) about "needing" to go out too many evenings in the week.  Man, sometimes I just want to go home from work and fucking stay there.

I was trying to reach some equilibrium with that this week, especially since it's a holiday weekend and you're supposed to just veg out.  But I had to chuck that all out the window.  First it's because of my cousin and her son.  She said that Friday might work, but that's The Official Start Of Summer, and I had plans to go to my speakeasy and ease into this Endless Summer by drinking.  Saturday could work, too, but United FC has a Match in the afternoon, I wanted to relax with pizza and a beer afterwards, and there is the possibility of the English Championship Play-Up Match that morning (I say possibility because as I type this, there is a hearing to determine whether Southampton, one of the teams playing, should be kicked out for spying on Middlesbrough, the club it beat more than a week ago to reach the Final).  Sunday and Monday are a lot freer, but I was hoping to fuck ****e one of those days and stay in the other, and I want to do both so badly that I consider seeing my cousin one of those days, as convenient that it might be, a frustrating spanner in the works.  I don't want to say I would rather not see my cousin, but ...

I'm getting over myself.  For one thing, all this soccer watching is still up in the air; Sunday, for example, is Decision Day in the EPL.  If Tottenham Hotspur is still in jeopardy of being relegated, I'm going out to watch it at a pub that morning, and in that case I probably won't have any time to myself at home this weekend.  Still, I'm looking for some solace, and I have to look to the workweek for that, too.  My plan during the workweek was to go out last/Monday night because I had a gas coupon that was going to expire, so I might as well work on my receipts and eat out.  Tonight/Tuesday night and tomorrow/Wednesday night I would stay in, finally.  Thursday I would, for the first time ever, go out to the State Fair, which now opens for Memorial Weekend.  Then Friday's the speakeasy.

That was all shot to hell when I came home from work last/Monday night.  Taped onto my screen door was a notice from the city.  They're doing something with the main sewer line tomorrow/Wednesday.  Between 8 in the morning and 8 in the evening, I am not supposed to use any water at all in the house.  Well, fuck.  I might as well not go home after work.  So, what to do?  How about go to the speakeasy then?  I don't want to "celebrate" summer two days early, but frankly, it makes a lot of sense to just do this tomorrow/Wednesday night.  Not only would I give the city time to not mess up the house's sewer system, going out (instead of staying in) tomorrow/Wednesday night frees up Friday night for me to hang with my cousin and cousin once removed.  Looking at it that way, a lot of problems get solved.

So I'm being a social butterfly again.  Yippee ... ?

(Aside: I am working the early shift at work today/Tuesday.  I should be in bed instead of blog posting this.  Anyway, if I get done with work early, well, it would theoretically allow me to go exercise at a decent hour in the evening.  Yeah, golly, I can do that.  But on that announcement by the city, I am supposed to pour water down all my drains in anticipation of this sewer line cut tomorrow/Wednesday.  It may not take up a whole lot of time, but if I'm doing that, I might as well do other chores ... like go through my stuff, finally.  Yeah, I need to get in shape, but if I really want to go home -- well, I should just do this, huh?  Might as well salvage one night to do nothing.)