It’s All Food, No Frills

Some of us are foodies, while others forget there’s anything but fast food. I fall somewhere in between.

All restaurants are fragile, but the most futile are those that chose fancy over function.

That function is food. And it isn’t always fabulous, but it’s formative. It fills your stomach and, when you’re fortunate, the fridge.

As restaurants forget the former and are forced to fare with fear of finances, customers forget it’s Friday.

Remember Friday? Way back when we fled work to frolic about the fuckin’ party. Fuck.

Even posting about Friday now is for the faint of heart. Don’t do it. You’re an asshole.

I don’t have accurate data, but I’m certain stressed, starved, stay-at-home Americans are salivating about Pizza.

Vito and Nick’s on Chicago’s Southwest Side is still tossing pies like Trump tosses jabs at CNN. Folks line up out front favoring social distance in order to pry open that perfectly prepared pie.

It’s thin and crispy. Greasy and good. Fear doesn’t faze pizza, it just fucks with it’s ‘fair’ faction.

It isn’t fun for families to forge back, forget friends and forage the fridge. But, finances aside, there is time for even the most frugal to flood the fringe.

Money’s tight, germs are thumping. Time’s not of the essence, but our saliva is.

The ball is in our court and the frills are on the other side of the concession stand. $50 to spend. What will it be, D’Agostino’s or Vito and Nick’s? Time or Taste?

Curbs, covered counters. This is where our food is now. But, for how long? Forever?

If so, forget the fancy facade and the formidable front door, because it’s frightening. Fake the food and you’re fucked. Just check the ‘For Sale’ fest.

P.S. I love restaurants and hate viruses. Except, I’m not faking the facts.