Thursday 16 August 2012

Still Tasting the Donair

Louise and Regina decided that it would be nice if we drove up to Canmore for supper as a kind of combination thanks and goodbye celebration since she is leaving tomorrow. I haven’t been for quite some time and am always up for a trip to the mountains no matter how brief. I told them that I don’t want to be involved in the decision regarding where we will eat, because I can’t make my mind up at the best of times.

The drive was invigorating as usual and we got there just as the weekly market was closing down. It looked pretty cool and I promised myself to go at some indeterminate time in the future. We started walking and looking for restaurants that seemed like they would have good food at a reasonable price. We walked and walked and walked in a circle actually without finding anything good.

I took to asking strangers walking by if they were from Canmore. It turns out that a large number of people in a tourist town are tourists and actually know less than I do. Yes, it is hard to believe. I think I asked three women, two just brushed me off with an “I’m not from here.” The last one recommended an Italian place just down the street. The other thing you should know about people in an upscale tourist town is that they more than likely have more money than I do. The prices at the Italian place would keep Greece financially secure for a couple of months.

I decided that women walking down the street were of no use at all, and I should not only have to find a man, but a man that lived in Canmore. We were walking past the Canmore Hotel and I saw a guy staggering out of the doorway trying to figure out how a cigarette package opens. I asked him if the food in the bar was any good and he kind of slithered down the two steps and looked right through me. I asked him again and he kept staring forwards. I guess this guy is deaf.

It turns out that he wasn’t deaf, he was very drunk and it had taken about 45 seconds for the sound from his ears to reach his alcohol fuddled brain. “I’s Fuckin’ good food! Is good food! Fuck yeah!” I looked at the girls and gave them the “What have we got to lose?” look. There was an upstairs patio, but you have to walk through the bar and the pool room to get to the stairs. I was pretty sure that I wouldn’t get raped, but it was touch and go for the ladies. We made it to the stairs and Regina made the mistake of looking in the kitchen. Foolish rookie move!

Up on the patio, there were another couple of drunken guys but that was it for patrons. I was thinking that a restaurant that has no one in it at supper time might be a little iffey. What the Hell, I’m hungry and how bad could it be? I got my watered down coke (never offered a refill by the way) and placed the order for a Donair. I don’t really like donairs, so my way of thinking was that since I don’t like them anyways I won’t be disappointed. I wasn’t! The girls ordered the steak sandwich and I suppose it was passable.

We had to ask for ketchup, cutlery, steak sauce and something to put on the dryer than dry potatoes. I could tell my crappy donair was looking pretty good to Louise and Regina right then. In spite of the food, it was a good meal. 

Okay, we had a nice visit in a beautiful setting with people that made us happy. What more could you ask for? It was good value for the money too, I am still tasting the Donair…

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