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I have a somewhat foggy
recollection of my time at The Half Pint. In fact, I didn’t
even remember going there until some blurry cell phone photos I snapped
turned up the next day. And this wasn’t because I was in any
way inebriated or anything, but, wait... Inebriated means drunk, right?
Oh, yeah, I was inebriated--inebriated out of my mind. We had an incredibly
understanding server who put up with our shenanigans, and didn't even
call the cops when we grunted over our tall table full of appetizers
and made her wear a mask for a larger tip. The food was pretty decent
(little soft pretzels, nachos, wings, sliders)--although a dead squirrel
on a crusty ciabatta roll probably would have tasted good to me at
that point--and the multitude of crazy microbrew beers on tap were
flowing. The place itself has a nice worn-in feel with its lacquered
wood tables and stools, exposed brick and votive candles. I couldn't
vouch for the crowd, as we were there in one of those in-between times
and we were kind of in our own world. Joining us in that world was
our lovely server pictured at left, who did indeed get the tip of
her life and a nice story for at least the next week about the complete
idiots who made her play Lone Ranger for a night. [MF]
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