Tuesday, June 24, 2008
I live very close to Passage Brady, a quaint passage of Indian restaurants that I've been meaning to try. After Savate class recently, I announced I was going to meet a friend at Passage Brady to have lunch. The local students asked me in unison if I liked to eat rats. At first I thought I misunderstood the translation. "Uh....rats? You mean Nan? I like Nan." But no, they informed me that if I was a lover of rats, I would REALLY REALLY LOVE Passage Brady. I decided to forego the lunch there and instead check it out later myself. That night I happen to pass by it after the restaurants were all closed and there, through the gates, I saw my personal version of hell. Rats, rats, and more rats. Young, old, little baby rats and giant gargantuan monster rats. I seemed to have interrupted their relay race from one restaurant to another. One big rat fiesta. All that was missing was the pinata.
I almost barfed.
Then I cried.
Then I ran home.
Thanks for terrorizing me, Rat Alley.