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Review content:
i've been going to parky's since i first started dating my now-ex girlfriend, Alison. She was the vision of crumbling beauty, lost hope, the American dream gone straight to hell. She first introduced me to Parky's early in our stormy and short-lived relationship together. She lived over on Maple, near Philander's, where we frequently enjoyed masochistic old jazz torch songs in their smoky barroom. I remember courting her in spring, and sitting with her on what of the outdoor benches, relishing our chilli cheese dogs and the bright, warm sunny weather. But there was a darkness beneath the facade of normalcy and contentment. At that moment at Parky's, she pulled out David Ratkoff's book Fraud, and i new she identified with every word in his troubling yet insightful distillation of self-loathing and alienation in America. I was not aware at that point that she had developed a huge habit, one that led her into marginalized communities of drunkards, prostitutes, g**g foot soldiers, and off course, dealers. A nice, suburban upbringing hid a truer, more macabre reality that pervaded her worldview, and which was at once terrifying and well as pitifully endearing. Parky's, in some way, normalized our troubled lives, which were both quite empty and misguided. A chilli cheese dog was all that mattered on that beautiful sunday afternoon- a respite from the harsh and vivid insanity that would characterize much of our time together. I know she's nine months sober now, though we have not had any contact for three years. I hope she's ok today... i hope she's found meaning and acceptance, peace and love. I still eat at Parky's today, without her... but sometimes, when the weather's just right, and i sip my fanta amidst big bites into my chilli cheese dog, i think of her...and i feel her next to me still.
Pros: Simplicity without sacrificing Quality
Cons: Never got my t-shirt
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