Ritters! And Other Pittsburgh Eateries

So I kidnapped Leslie from her family last night. She needed it. 🙂 I haven’t seen her since Easter, when she last pilgrimaged from Dublin, Ireland, to our homeland of Pittsburgh. Goodness only knows when she’ll return again — it’s quite a commute for her, both financially and emotionally. She says these trips are getting harder to make, and she may only come back once in 2003, and that will most likely be when Chris and Shawn finally tie the knot, probably later in the year. We decided she should fly into Dulles Airport, where I can meet her and we can go to Minnesota together. With that settled, now we are planning to save some of our pennies (or Euros. lol) next year so that we can be sure to enjoy this long-awaited event!!!

Leslie — the wonderful lass — bought me dinner at Dingbat’s in Waterworks, one of our favorite old haunts. We had a lot of fun, catching up in person. It’s amazing, for as detailed as our e-mails can sometimes be, how much we really miss when we’re not talking in person several times a week, the way we used to. She has soooo many great stories to tell that I have encouraged her to get herself a Blog, but like she says, most people wouldn’t even believe the stories she has to tell. I just wish she could record all of her European adventures for posterity, and that way, I can keep better tabs on our free-spirited American wildwoman as she hops around Ireland, Scotland and god-only-knows-where she ends up. 🙂

After Dingbat’s, we were off to another old haunt, Tom & Tud’s in Aspinwall, to grab a couple of 40s of Coors Light (’cause we’re just ghetto like that — after all, we ARE from Pittsburgh!), and we cruised down to the Ramada, where I mercifully had a two-night stay booked and paid for in advance. Woo hoo!

I must admit that I almost got pulled over tonight. When we were leaving Aspinwall, I knew that I had to jump on Route 28, but we weren’t sure which of the two exits to take to go to the hotel (we’re kinda hopeless with the east-west thing). After I passed the correct exit, Leslie alerted me that we kinda needed that one, so I did a near U-Turn to get on the correct ramp. Unfortunately, I had some asshole on my tail, so I sped up like a maniac and flew like a bat outta hell to avoid getting rear-ended. Something told me to put on my turn signal mid-turn, and thankfully, I did. Because, well, the asshole began REALLY following me closely after that. Shit. I finally decided to go the speed limit (I think it was 45 in that stretch — I was well above 60) and then I dropped into the right-hand lane. Then the asshole passed me. And of course, as my luck would have it, the asshole was a cop! Whew. We figured, the only reason I did NOT get pulled over was because of the turn signal, because if I were a drunk driver, I would’ve conveniently forgotten that. Of course, here in Virginia, turn signals are optional on all car models, and no one would’ve batted an eye, had I not flipped the blinker on. 🙂

The beer was flat, but we drank it anyway (I needed it. Trust me). We got up today and went to breakfast (Leslie’s treat again — whatta great date! lol). She suggested we either go to Ritter’s or King’s, both of which make my tummy rumble at the thought of touching a plate of food, so I let her decide that one. We ended up at Ritter’s (it’s a Pittsburgh tradition, and trust me when I say it, you can only appreciate it if you’re hammered or if you’re 85 or older). But the place has the best damn coffee in the city, paralleled only by Eat ‘n Park (again, another place to go only when you’re completely shitfaced).

At any rate, we ordered our standard favorites — buckwheat pancakes for her, and a sausage and cheese omelet for me. And, of course, tons of java. And true to tradition (for me, anyway), I promptly returned the omelet (most likely, in its entirety) to the Monongahela River, from whence it probably came. IKEA Boy and I used to call that place “Shitters,” or, when we saw things with more than two legs dancing around the floors, “Critters.” Aaaah, memories. …

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