I went into Halifax yesterday with some friends. By the end of the day I had been dragged from one end of Mic Mac Mall to the other. I say dragged because I really didn't have any kind of shopping agenda while I was there. I felt like I was a kid again because all my friends wanted to go into various clothing stores, while all I wanted to do was look for music and DVDs. I kinda drew the line when some of them went into American Eagle, so I made a quick bee line for Music World, which was thankfully only a few feet away. I picked up the new Wolf Parade CD and Gremlins and Orca: The Killer Whale on DVD.
After all the shopping we, unfortunately, went to East Side Mario's for dinner. I had never been to East Side Mario's before and if I never go again I won't be too disappointed. Our waiter wasn't all that great, but I probably wouldn't have a lot of pride in my job if I worked at a crappy chain restaurant either. I started with the nachos which were actually quite good. About halfway through I did have to get conservative with my salsa and sour cream usage but other than that the nachos got an ethusiastic thumbs up from me. But then sometime later they brought my entrée, a Tuscan turkey club sandwich. Possibly the second worst club sandwich I have ever eaten, a sentiment I expressed quite openly and loudly while eating it. Now, I say second worst club sandwich only because I have yet to have eaten a club sandwich that caused me to be violently ill and the top spot on the list of all-time worst club sandwiches is reserved for just such a sandwich.
Now, if after reading all of this you get the impression I had a lousy time in Halifax, I should clarify that this was not the case. I'm just more of the type to emphasize the negative. The friends I went with are a great group of people. Their company more than makes up for lousy club sandwiches and less than stellar shopping trips.
On the way home from Halifax we stopped at Chapters and I managed to find a copy of Fight Club that didn't have Edward Norton's face on the cover. While I love the movie, I hate it when a book cover is plastered with actors faces and scenes from the film adaptation. The worst example of this has to be when they slap the movie poster from Blade Runner on the cover of Philip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? While I am a fan of both, the movie has so little to do with the book, the association seems rather pointless.
And in true Chester fashion, a night cannot really be complete without having a few drinks. So we picked up some booze at the NSLC boutique in Bayer's Lake before heading back to town. We ended up playing poker for a few hours and I left the table the big winner with $20 in my pocket. That made me feel a bit better for dropping money on the lousy meal.
Finally, as a side note, my good friend Jared, who has been been living in Houston lately, tells me that Richard Roundtree (the original Shaft) frequently eats at the restaurant where he works. And seeing as Shaft's Big Score! is, in my opinion, the best blaxploitation movie there is, I'm hoping he's gonna get me an autograph.