Well, recently I ran into an acquaintance of mine. We talked for a while, I'd like to make it a habit to ask people where they like to eat. It was late and i was about to get off of work. I had mentioned i might have to go to Wa-Ho or the dinner to get a decent warm meal. That's when he mentioned Suburban Tap. I already knew that the Tap had a huge beer list, What I didn't know was that their full kitchen stays open till 2AM. This came as to me as a surprise. So off I went.
Day One.
Tuesday, Roughly 11PM
Activities; Poker, Open Mic Night, Drinking
When I walked immediately I noticed how lively the restaurant was. Poker to the left of me and poker to the right, but there I was stuck in the middle with a hostess stand with no host/hostess to be found. It was busy so I ventured forth. I'd honestly like to omit as much personal information as possible, but I think that what happened to me, could very well happen to you if you grew up in the area. I took what i thought would be an awesome seat at the bar, right in front of a lengthy row of beer taps. As my eyes scanned the room I found myself sitting directly across the bar from me was one of my ex-girlfriends..... Awkward! This seems now to have been an ominous bit of foreshadowing.
Before i get to deep into this I should let you know about my predisposition towards fried chicken, especially if its then tossed in some type of hot sauce... oh yea, then pour some bleu cheese on that thang... no wait ranch, and not just any type of ranch, extra ranch! If this dish in sandwich form such as the Taps "Killer Chicken Sandwich" It should be a guarantee that it comes with fries. If you haven't indulged in a guilty pleasure like a buffalo chicken sammie, what you don't know is that fries act as an amazing cushion of sorts. Protecting the hot and ranch sauces as they drip from your tightly gripped sammie and plummet towards your cold lonely plate..... But alas when my supposedly "Killer Chicken" arrived I have to admit that died a little inside. Why I hope your pondering... No F***I** Ranch You Cheap SH** F*** A**.
Wait a minute... after taking a step back and calming myself down I realized again that they were moderately busy and perhaps mistakes could theoretically happen in some form or another. I sat content drinking my Blue Moon and attempting to eat my fries without the appropriate amount of smothering they deserve. I waited for a chance to catch the eye of the bartender to see if I could get the aforementioned sauce of my desire. Time passed bye... after about ten minutes, I normally would have screamed for it but the open mic music was nearing an abrasive volume level. More time passed by... My fries are all gone, my beer is empty, and still not a glance from the staff... A nudge on my shoulder... who could this be... maybe the ranch fairy... Yea I said a fairy, I hope you keep in mind that my idea of a ranch fairy is John Madden holding a football helmet full of ranch, and as he presents it to me he tells me that Matt Ryan is the next Brett Farve. However it was not a fairy, nor the actual John Madden no it was my Ex who somehow could tell from across the bar that I was not satisfied with my food. "Everything alright with your food?" she asked. I attempted to flick the top of the bun off to show my lack of dressing, but my food had gone cold and the Swiss cheese had stuck to both the chicken and the bun. I told her that i had asked for some ranch and I was waiting for some service to which she replied "That's no good, you gotta have ranch." Ohh.. did your heart just flutter as well. Had I missed out on the love of my life? Well maybe if you like bat shit crazy, but that's for a different blog. Since I already included a football reference in this post I suppose I'll add another. The moment she nudged me I felt like I was in a 4th and long situation and it was late in the game. I only had one option a hail mary, It's a little trick i picked up when you need to get a check fast. I grabbed my empty beer glass and raised it as high as I possibly could, to get the attention of the bartender, when she came towards me to see if i wanted another beer, I promptly asked for a box and my check.
So I had to take my "Killer Chicken" home so it could be properly attended to, and I had to make a hasty exit to avoid ghosts of past relationships. What are the odds of those things happening, it all could just be a coincidence, and after all thats the whole point of this blog, I'll give it three goes and see what else they have to offer... something perhaps without ranch, I think you deserve that as a reader. And honestly as far as the entertainment goes the music wasn't all bad and it was a very relaxed atmosphere... But I have to say I wonder about what adventures I may encounter in my next visit. I will normally try to go to a restaurant at different times of day, but since I was told that it was a restaurant for cooks to go after work I will only come back after 10PM to see if this advertisement hold true.
http://www.suburbantap.com/
How WAS the sandwich? Is it worth a repeat visit?
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