We here at Armenian Fungus Cake don’t like having to choose. We want the best of both worlds, and then some, in one package, whether that means a bunch of different food in the same bag or a unified Mangoustan.
So, after a long day of searching for funny foods and other oddities to bring to you, we decided to stop for lunch at the only place that meshed perfectly with our desires to combine everything we could possible desire under one single roof.
But how could we possibly do this? I mean, sure, there’s Asian fusion and other such combinative cooking, but our interests extend far beyond food, although sometimes we have our doubts. We are more than what we eat. We are car owners and furniture users and clothes wearers, as much as we like all sorts of consumables.
For this reason, we were thrilled when we discovered the true identity of an anonymous (for the sake of being anonymous, and convincing you that we write out of Cleveland) and commonplace looking gas station and car wash, two things common both on their own and together. We looked up something to eat in a wealthy and somewhat chichi suburb called **************, where we ended up after plenty intracity travel. Naturally, we were surprised when we saw the listing for what we thought was just, as I said, a gas station and carwash, under the restaurant category–and rated four stars to boot. We figured it was our duty to try, even if we expected the purported four star food to taste like oil and soap.
The building, which we’d seen before, is big and nondescript, and next to gas pumps and what I later realized was a car wash–I always assumed that the building wasn’t truly a building, but the housing for the wash, and that car wash looking thing on the outside was something else. I was wrong.
We walked into the building, and were slightly taken aback. The floors were made of nice concrete, the place was comfortable lit and well decorated, and even more, gigantic. On one side was a counter surrounded by cigarettes and condoms and other gas station convenience store fare. On the other was a counter with a kitchen behind it and a chalkboard above with, for whatever reason, barbecue items.
The rest? The rest was plain strange. There were pieces of wicker furniture, tables, stools, tchotchkes, sculptures, odd food items, like traditional South American chocolates and artisanal condiments. The whole thing was one weird juxtaposition of gas station and import store, with fine wines next to refrigerators full of cheap beer.
We sat down and ordered several barbecue items, and filled something like 7 cups with all different sorts of sauces. The food was quite good for a gas station, and even for a restaurant.
But honestly, that’s not the point. The food and its quality are not the important part.
What’s important is WHOSE IDEA WAS THIS?????
THE PLACE IS NUTS! DID I LIKE IT? YES? BUT STILL!
DO I WANT MY BRISKET IN VIEW OF STRAWBERRY CONDOMS! APPARENTLY SO.
WHY IS THERE BRISKET PERIOD? BARBECUE AT ALL? THIS ISN’T EVEN A NEW COMPANY–IT’S AN OLD GAS STATION CHAIN, THAT SOMEONE CLEARLY REVAMPED ON A CONFUSINGLY LARGE SCALE! WHY ARE THERE IMPORTED CHOCOLATES! WHY CAN I BUY PEACH RINGS AND A MINI STATUE OF AN ITALIAN CHEF WITHIN 5 FEET OF EACH OTHER?
I’M CONFUSED! IS IT FOOD? IS IT GAS? IS IT CONVENIENCE? IS IT HUMAN? IS IT DANCER?
DOES IT GET BETTER?
AM I GAY?
IS MY FOOD GAY? IS GAS A WOMAN? WHERE IS MY MIND (DON’T SUE ME)? HOW IS THIS SUCCESSFUL? IS THIS SUBURB OSTENTATIOUS TO THE POINT WHERE EVERY FANTASTICALLY BIZARRE IDEA AND ITS MOTHER GETS MONEY? I GUESS!!!
AM I COMPLAINING? I DON’T KNOW! I DOUBT IT, I LIKED IT, WHAT I LIKED, I DON’T DAMN KNOW!
ARE EXISTENTIAL CRISES NORMAL WITH COMING HERE?
AM I CRAZY?
WORD COUNT: 666