The Edmonton Diaries, Pt. 3

My new luggage tag to screw with TSA and Customs
As last we left our intrepid correspondent, he was headed for a "fashionably late" dinner, the irony of that statement will become apparent in time! There is a restaurant within walking distance of my hotel, and sometimes it's easier to take a crap shoot on the food, just to get out of getting back in the car and driving again. So I set off on foot to a restaurant called the White Spot. (Yes, I know you liberals are chortling with the notion that because I am a conservative male, I would look for a "white spot".)

The sign said some about the restaurant being "legend"...wait for it! "dairy"...legendary! My own experience was that legend has it someone went there to eat and was served...on the same night! Under the sign, it said "Since 1928". I assume that that is the longest anyone has ever waited to be served there, but that too, seems rather "conservative".

Upon entering, no one was to be seen who actually admitted to working at the restaurant. (Who could blame them?) I waited for several minutes before someone finally wandered up to the front of the restaurant, followed shortly by my "late" waitress. As they walked me back into the restaurant, they asked me where I wanted to sit. I told them I didn't much care, because I was 'pretty easy going'. Yes. I actually said that. (Mistake #2)

I was seated, the waitress handed me a menu and was back shortly to ask if I wanted to start out with a drink. Seeing as how I'd had this HUGE mug of a local red ale with my dinner the night before, I opted for a margarita, seeing as how there were several on the menu.

"Sorry! The machine's broken." This, despite having a fully stocked bar and bartender, and the notion that blenders are not completely unknown in the Great White North. "Okay. Give me a minute", says I, and off she went. Legend has it that she was kidnapped by gypsies who would eventually make her their queen. Others say, she merely died of old age. Perhaps, she too, was waiting on another employee of the White Spot?

After more minutes than I care to count, switching my lack of attention between a tennis match on half the big screen TVs and a hockey game on the others, I left. No one said anything to me on the way out. They may not have even noticed yet that I am no longer there.

I may be the next part of the "legend": the customer they almost served!

(Catty review to follow...)