Saturday, February 24, 2007

I'm Sorry Bartendress, But Kings Is Still Better

Last night my buddy Jon and I met up with our friend Dave and some of his college friensd at Jillian's. The plan was to go bowling at Lucky Strike, a 20 lane bowling alley within Jillian's. It's been years since I've been there (Game 2 of the 04 World Series).

There's just really no reason to go to Jillian's anymore. Originally, and still around the country, Jillian's was a giant arcade with a bar. Aside from my living room, it was my favorite place to get drunk and play video games. Then, they got rid of everything, and filled the place with pool tables and eventually a bowling alley. It remains the worst decision ever made on Landsdowne Street (and when your building shares a street with the Red Sox front office, that's saying something).

Now Jillian's remains overpriced, overcrowded, and overzealous. I've voiced my displeasure on having to remove my hat at ridiculous places and you can certainly add Jillian's to the list. I was wearing a ski hat (it was 20 degrees out) and was kindly asked by a bouncer to remove it. I'm not sure why. Either:

A) It's not classy (in which case the bowling shoes must be Manolos).

B) It's not respectful (I saw a hooker shake her head at the outfits the waitresses have to wear).

C) It could be concealing a weapon (Ah yes, the old Bazooka in the winter hat trick).

At any rate, I placed my hat in my pocket (closer to my trigger finger, natch).

Then, there's the interminable wait and sky high costs. Dave's friends didnt even get a lane until about 12:45, lord knows how must it cost.

So, while relaxing at the bar, I mentioned to my friends that Kings is way better. The bartendress overheard me and launched into a tirade about how I was wrong because she used to work there and they changed ownership to a guy who owned Vinny Testa's, and they changed the uniforms to another color and then back again, and blah blah blah blah blah blah.

It went on and on for several minutes (I wish I did have a concealed Bazooka in my winter hat) until I begrudgingly agreed.

I just must've been so busy bowling, drinking and having fun at Kings that I didn't notice the waitstaff's egregious new colored shirts.

The moral of this story is that unless you're going to a Red Sox game, concert, or kinda just want to feel what it's like to be roofied, never go to Landsdowne Street.

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