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Dinner on the other side of the tracks

   Last evening, I was desperate - desperate, I tell you -  for a change.  "No more same ol', same ol'!" I declared, as my husband and I pondered where to eat out, yet again, during our kitchen remodel.          "How about the biker bar north of town?' I heard myself saying.  (Where did that come from?) "Cool," said Man of Few Words. After a short cruise across the river (via Toyota, not Harley-Davidson - I haven't gotten that bored, yet), we arrived at ....
   We were pleasantly surprised to find a small but decent blues band playing on the patio and enough cool breezes for me to belly up to the bar for dinner.  It was a lot of fun, one of those "feel like you're out of town" experiences.  (The photo below belies the real vibe of the place - tables were filled on both sides of the bar with a lively, diverse crowd.) And the patty melt and salad were better than average, too!
We'll be back. But, next time, I'll be wearing a bandana. It's too hot for my leather chaps.

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