This Presidents’ Day, Bruce, I, and five friends packed a booth at the Pickle Barrel.
Bruce: I had a pretty good time there with all those people there.
Pie and Coffee: What’s the Pickle Barrel like?
B: The day we went there, everybody was in good spirits. Because I’ve gone in there a couple times before, and it wasn’t such a good vibe. I really got a good vibe that day, because everybody there was on MySpace. My MySpace friends.
P: Not everybody, but a lot of them were.
B: A lot of them sitting at the table were. I encourage more people to be on MySpace.
P: What’s the coffee like at the Pickle Barrel?
B: Very good.
P: What’s the service like?
B: The service we had was very good.
P: It’s actually a pretty well-known place. It’s “the place” in that neighborhood.
B: Yeah. I mean, if you lived in that area, then you would go there. In the case that you lived downtown, you would go to the Midtown Mall, to that diner there.
P: The Pickle Barrel’s a lot bigger and busier than the Midtown Dinette, though.
B: One thing, The French toast is good, but the Midtown Dinette’s was better. One thing about the Pickle Barrel, they forgot to bring me syrup. Other than that, it was pretty good.
P: Well I gotta say too, it would be awesome if the Pickle Barrel had some vegan options. I know that’s sort of insane, and has nothing to do with their being a neighborhood diner. But I throw that out there as a suggestion.
So what is that paper that you’re wielding?
B: I was writing this down last night, abbreviating what the Snow Ghost would be. The rest, the rest, depends—this is two different sayings. The first one would be: shit-nude-out-whore ghoul-horror-out-sick-toll. The nice one would be: so-nice-to-weather good-host-original-snow-transport.
The other one, the Black Death, would be: the bastard-loud-arse dat-eat-arse-to-hell.
P: Any final thoughts about Worcester?
B: It’s kinda cold out today.