Hotlanta is the jam. Since I live here, I am probably a little biased yet the fact remains that if you come and visit this city, there is plenty of trouble to get into in a heartbeat. Most of the time when someone says something like that it’s taken in jest. “Oh sure, I know what you mean, man!” That type of thing. “You can get real drunk there, go to strip clubs, do drugs, blah, blah, blah”. Fuck that bullshit. I’m talking about REAL trouble. The fuckin run for your life, here come the cops type of shit. Please let me elaborate.
The other night the ol’ ball and chain wanted to go out (She loves it when I call her that). She used the kind of non-descript, “take me somewhere honey, I wanna drink” type of whine that girls are prone to do sometimes. It was a Wednesday night and I couldn’t think of an excuse not to go so, of course, I obliged. In any event, I was as hungry as a carnivorous platypus and, since there was nothing goin’ on, I thought a drink and some delicious eats would do me good. Well, we didn’t end up going to “Eats” (which is a cheap ATL staple, since forever, for food and it is delicious), but I did remember this one other delicious place called O’Terrils which is near Central Park where my friend used to live. Of course it’s an Irish pub, and they have good food like cranberry and turkey sandwiches, and all sorts of shit on rye bread. It is usually a pretty safe place to eat. As “safe” as anywhere near a Central Park (see MLK Dr.) and a methadone clinic, that is.
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