I’ve spent about 5 years living in the Edgewater neighborhood (split between two tours), and I’m starting to think that this is the place I belong.
Love it or leave it, Edgewater is as strange as I am, which might be why we get along so well.
Unpretentious and often bizarre, “the edge”, as our silly lamp post neighborhood banners say, is the sort of neighborhood where you can eat really fancy, really expensive ice cream on one block, and get shot on the next. Yeah. We live on “the edge”.
All I know, is that this past Sunday was kind of a pivotal moment for me. The GF and I have been scouting this tiny diner two blocks from our house for the past several months. You know the type… the decor hasn’t been updated since 1963, and you’re pretty sure the food is going to be the best thing ever or the worst thing ever.
Sunday was the day we finally bit the bullet and went to Alexander’s for breakfast. I’ve never seen waitresses that good. My omelette was the size of my ass. The coffee was free-flowing. You get half a banana as a garnish, and homemade salsa on the side. Alexander’s was everything I hoped it could be, but I’m a little afraid to admit it lest you start going there too. I want Alexander’s to be my little secret. A place where we can walk to on a Sunday and always get a table, and always have fantastic service. Please don’t change, Alexander’s. You haven’t changed since 1963, so there’s no reason to start now…
… and then on the way home we came across a $27 Subaru.
Yeah. That’s my ‘hood. We are a match made in heaven.
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