Pho Xua

1020 W Argyle St
Chicago, IL 60640
(773) 271-9828

Knock knock!

Who's there?

Banana. (repeat 2 times)

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Orange.

Orange who?

The decor inside Pho Xua is a relaxing orange color. I didn't think that I would care for it, but I found it rather relaxing. What I found better than relaxing was the Pineapple Coconut smoothie! Wooo!! That is pure fruity yumminess. I advise to get it without the tapioca balls. Why ruin perfectly good liquid fruit with, what looks like, you know what. Mmm, appetizing...only...not at all. Get it without the balls. During the week, PX offers what might be the best value on Argyle Street: appetizer, soup, rice & entree for UNDER SIX DOLLARS!!! You heard me right. Lots of food. Minimum cash. PX is my new best friend. The rice, apps and entrees are flavorful but the Egg Drop Soup is out of this world. And, if the soup tastes this good, you KNOW the pho has got to be outta sight.*

PX gets an extra star for its management. Unbeknownst to it, many cold, hungry and potty mouthed city tourists were going to scare away its usual clientele on a Saturday afternoon. The management bent over backwards to make sure that we had a pleasant experience and good food. I can't say enough nice things about the way this restaurant is run. Patronize this wonderful place - and, please, refrain from discussing minnows, blue colored spherical objects and Japanese video stars who attempt to break world records.

*Orange you glad I didn't say banana?

Chicago's Home of Chicken and Waffles

3947 S King Dr
Chicago, IL 60653
(773) 536-3300

Mmm hmm. This is not the contented "Mmm hmm" of a full belly and happy thoughts. This is the "Mmm hmm" of an "I see you & your triflin' self" side-eye. To be fair, this place was already on my "Mmm hmm" radar after its shady RosScoe's beginnings. While it's sorta humorous that the CHoC&W ptb tried to pull such a sorry fast one, it should give the public a glimpse of the kind of business tptb are trying to run. I've eaten at Roscoe's. I've eaten at Sylvia's. Depending on whom you ask, I am from the South. I am pretty well acquainted with fried chicken & waffles. The sides were slammin'. The chicken was pretty good. The waffles were pitiful, verging on "sorry."

I ordered the white chicken dinner with mac & cheese, greens and red beans & rice (complimentary cornbread). The dinner came out really quickly. I was impressed - and a little suspicious - by how quickly it came out, but I wasn't going to complain. I was here to eat. The mac & cheese was delicious. It was buttery, firm & starchy-cheesy. It was definitely reminiscent of post-baptism dinners in the church basement. I added hot sauce to the red beans. I didn't do so out of disrespect. It's how I grew accustomed to eating them in NOLA. They were great. The bean to rice ratio was a *little* dry, but nothing to complain about. The greens were well seasoned, slightly bitter and served with meat hocks in the bowl. Just right.

The chicken was pretty good. I ordered the white pieces, so I was prepared for them to be slightly dry. It was nothing a little hot sauce couldn't handle. The skin was the same consistency as KFC Original Recipe, but didn't have the flavor. Thumbs down for that. I was expecting the crunchy fried chicken that comes as a result of a hot skillet, flour, seasoning and several grease pop/splatters that taught me not to go by the stove when my grandma was making chicken. I was confused by the 'smooth' skin. The cornbread portion was healthy, but the cornbread was dry. I could take or leave it.

The waffle. Hmph. This wasn't a waffle. This was a tortilla with Sharpie-drawn squares. It cost $4.95! That's more than a waffle at Roscoe's! That's a five dollah foot-a-looonguh. For $4.95, I was expecting a waffle steak. Or, a waffle sheet cake. This pitiful thing came out cold, flat, small and soggy with a couple of pats of hard butter. Pitiful. I tried spreading the butter on the waffle. It looked at me as if to say, "I don't know what you're trying to do, but while you do it, I'm just gonna sit here and not move. Oohh-kayyy?!" Yes, the butter had an attitude problem. I wound up dousing the waffle with syrup and throwing my cut up chicken on top of it in order to wolf it down. This was *not* the C&W experience of my west coast, east coast and southern lives. In fact, it singularly dampened my experience here.

Yeah, the chicken & sides are good but this is not Chicago's Home of Chicken & Sides. When you only deliver on half of your namesake, either change the name or improve the quality of your product. That being said, I was considering a complimentary recap. Then, the waiter hovered over us and, repeatedly, asked us for "[our] money so [he could] go home." So so place. Then, after being shaken down for our cash, my friend was told that her credit card was denied three times and she needed to pay with cash. Fine. She got home to discover her card had been charged twice. The third time, the credit card took it upon itself to deny the charge. Pitiful, trifling, sorry-ass place. Shady.

Mmm hmm.

Outlook Inn

916 Baxter Ave
Louisville, KY 40204
(502) 583-4661

What happened here? In my day, the Outlook Inn was a fun, divey little bar at the tail end of the Bardstown Rd/Baxter Ave drinkapalooza. It was the de facto meet up my for my friends & I during the holiday post-eating rituals we had with our families. It was a little dirty, low key and fun. Not anymore.

Imagine my surprise to find the Outlook filled - from doorguy (a bouncer at the Outlook??) to patron - with huge meatheads. Que? No no no. This isn't Molly Malone's. This is the Outlook. The only _____heads that should be here are "pot" or "crack."

With the change in clientele came a change in the music. I get it. I'm not 21 anymore. I shouldn't expect to hear The Pixies or the Beasties on the jukebox while some of my friends play pool and the others catch up on gossip and avoid people from high school. I know. But, I shouldn't be blasted out of my seat by whatever high decibel Garth Brooks/Gwar hellmeld that was playing. No, Outlook. Bad, Outlook.

Frightened by 'roidheads, deafened by the musical stylings of whatever that was, I attempted to get a drink. Nope. Person to my left. Served. Person to my right. Served. Person down the block at Cahoots. Served. Greatly annoyed and standing by myself, the bartender finally acknowledges me. "Oh. I didn't see you." Cannotstrangleherandgetarrested. Cannotstrangleherandgetarrested. Mmm, what? Oh. Sorry. That's my version of deep, cleansing breaths.

Scared? Strike one. Deafened? Strike two. Thirsty? Strike three. You're out and I'm out of here. I found out that the hipsters have fled the Outlook for Butcher/Smoke/Germantown. I can't say that I blame them. Oh, Outlook, what happened to you while I was gone? They paved paradise and put up a parking lot - and stuck a syringe full of steroids in its ass.

The Great Escape

2433 Bardstown Rd
Louisville, KY 40205
(502) 456-2216

You never forget your first and I can't forget The Great Escape. TGE is the best there is. This place, quite literally, changed my life. Before I discovered The Great Escape, I bought comic books off the spinning racks at Walgreens. Yes, it was haphazard and there was no rhyme or reason to what I was doing. I just liked the costumes, powers and stories.

When I was 7, after doing well on a spelling test, my dad took me on a 'surprise trip.' The destination was The Great Escape. I had never seen a place like this. An entire store made up of comic books, action figures, posters and more. I was transfixed. And hooked. I became a collector that day. I began to cultivate a taste for artists (George Perez), titles (The New Mutants & The Legion of Super Heroes) and authors (Chris Claremont). I discovered conventions, talked to other little kids who read comics, stretched my imagination, increased my vocabulary...and began to write. All these things were borne from my first trip to the Greatest comic store on earth.

As I grew older, I began to appreciate the books & music TGE sold. The staff (some of whom still work there) were always nice to me. That's right: comic guys who are nice to little kids! It's unheard of. They're knowledgeable, helpful, cool and friendly. The store is stocked to the gills. New books never run out and if you can't find an old book in the back stock, it doesn't exist.

After years of coveting it, I finally bought my Terra-era, pre-Judas Contract reveal, George Perez drawn New Teen Titans poster. It's one of my most prized possessions. After years of coming here, I still get the goose bumps of a little boy whose world is about to get a little brighter. The Great Escape is magic. Still.

The Zone

4121 Shelbyville Rd
Louisville, KY 40207
(502) 893-8654

Oh, Zone. I have finally had it with your broke-down ways. For years, my other comic geek friends would ask, "Why do you go to the Zone? That place sucks." I always defended you. But, I can do so no longer. You are rotten to the core.

I have had it with your lack of back stock.

I have grown tired of your haphazard hours and Three Stooges approach to customer service.

I am sick of you running out of books hours after they've been placed on the racks. This is not an every now & then problem. It's weekly. If I have to go to another comic store to purchase the books you ran out of, why not just go to that store initially?

And - Fox News on the TV? Really? I am already aggravated that you open up an hour (or more) later than the Greater Louisville comic store. I am already annoyed that 2 of the 5 books I want to pick up are already sold out. I am already ticked off by the fan boy 'tude. But, you want me to have a conniption fit by watching Ann "Is She the Live Action Gollum?" Coulter to boot? No. Not anymore.

Allow me to speak to you, comic geek to comic geek. I would rather eat Arby's for a week solid and have the Lost Smoke monster fly out of my @ss, than to patronize your wack store.

Havana Rumba

4115 Oechsli Ave
Louisville, KY 40207
(502) 897-1959

The following is an urgent message from John William: People of Louisville, STOP going to this place! My experience was not good. At all. Egads, it was awful. Yuck. Blergh. Am I making myself clear?

After getting a recommendation to come here from several friends, I decided to check it out. I love Cuban food. I eat it with some frequency and I know what I like. This place should be a home run, right? Ah ah ah. Not so fast. I came with a party of five. Even though we were no closer to free, we were still making it work (which is just as well, because Neve Campbell & Scott Wolf were not working anything. But Lacey Chabert grew up to be HOT! Wow. Wait. What am I talking about? Oh yeah). Six people. There were no available tables, so we sidled up to the bar to get a drink. Fresh off my great experience at N, I ordered a Cuba Libre. I received a "Lime" Coke. As in, add adjective "Cherry" or "Diet." The only thing libre'd from this drink was my friend's cash (thanks, Julie!).

Unamused from this gaffe, we took our seats at our now-ready table. I tried to keep an open mind, but that effort was quashed when our party of 6 was seated at a 4 top. Breathe in, breathe out. To 'rectify' the situation, the staff brought out two foldable lawn chairs. I started to laugh because, surely, they were joking. They were not. Breathe in, breathe out. A waitress sauntered up to the table an-.. Whoops. Not our waitress. "[Your waiter] is having a hectic night, so I am going to take your drink order." Lady, who's NOT having a hectic night around here? She offered to take our drink orders but our sodas-at-liquor-prices libations were full. Everyone's, that is, except my friend, Tracy. She ordered a margarita.

After another 20 minutes, our waiter finally shows up without Tracy's margarita and opens with this nugget: "What do you want?" Ha! Jokes abound at Havana Rumba. You get a show with your dinner. I see. That explains the prices. We order our food (and Tracy re-orders her margarita) and resume our conversation. After a long while, our food shows up (without Tracy's margarita) and, after redistributing our plates ourselves, everyone digs in. I ordered the lechon meal. The same meal at 90 Miles costs $9.95. It comes with three sides and it's delicious. This meal cost $12.95. It came with two sides and it was inedible. I'm guessing that this poor pig lived on a diet of Chek cola, chaw & black jelly beans as it lived a life of crime on the run. It was gray, tasteless and full of fat. Literally, half of my meat was fat. After I trimmed the fat, not only was there not much left but it was bland and seasonless. Tracy, who was still without her margarita, thought I was bellyaching without cause and tried some of my pork. Her response, "I meant to tell you to order the chicken."

Our waiter showed up (the second time of the evening we saw him; he didn't deliver our food, make sure the orders were right or check up on us) and asked how everything was. I told him. He shrugged. Again, Havana Rumba provides jokes. Maybe it can open for Dane Cook. A more disappointing and overpriced meal, I have not had in a while. Is there a Cuban version of the Chupacabra? If so, this might be the place! Be gone, Havana Rumba!!

Chicago Transit Authority CTA Part 2

567 W Lake Street
Chicago, IL 60661
(312) 664-7200

O.M.G. I d@mn near lost my mind and had a psychotic episode at CTA headquarters!! Today's episode of "Raising The Bar of Incompetence/Lowering The Depths Of Helpfulness" played out as follows:

My CTA card was stolen. I called customer 'service' to find out what to do. I found out that I should go online and "replace" the card and opt to pick a new one up the next day. *I* should do this. Fine. I went online. Placed a 'replace' order, noted the $5 fee for doing so, scowled & went to bed. I woke up this morning, got ready for work, caught the bus, paid $2.25, got off the bus, caught a train, paid $2.25, transferred train and entered the gleaming city that is CTA headquarters. Seriously, it's Ozian in its municipal opulence. By all the gltiz of the place, I could tell the CTA is hurting for funds.

I went up the stairs, waited in line and, finally, approached the window for my new card. "Hold." Wait. What? "You need to see the customer service gentleman around the corner. I can't help you." Wait. What? Disgruntled, but hopeful, I complied and made my way to the reception area. I told the man behind the desk of my plight. "Uhma, I cain't help you." Wait. What? "You went online and did yo' own card. I cain't override that." Wait. What? "You will get your new card in three or four days. You shulda never done that. You shulda came in here and did it for free. Why didn't you do that? Now you have to pay your way with cash or get a new cwhard." WAIT. WHAAATTT????!!!!

For purposes of any law enforcement reading this, words may or may not have been said. Threats may or may not have been made. A phone may or may not have been whupped upside someone's head. It's all unclear. And, isn't that all in the past (if something happened, that is)? Rather than explain to me why following customer service instructions lead me to this dark fate in the first place and it should be someone's job to fix the f up...Rather than rationalize to me why it takes 3 or 4 days for me to pick something up I could have already had in my hands 30 minutes ago and that is processed four blocks from where we stand...Rather than figuring out that giving the customer the ability to place a *hold* on his card in order to freeze the card until the customer can speak to a competent service agent & rectify the situation...Rather than all of this (and more), I was out $30, an hour of my time and a broken nail (from the phone upside the head whuppin'). All I had was a further reason to loathe the CTA.

I...I...despise the CTA so...so...much....I have..."Mrs. White" levels of hate flame on...both..sides of my...my..face. Everyday is a struggle of late buses, interrupted train service & terrible customer 'service.' The CTA, from its head management to the legion of rail 'workers' who lounge about 5 at a time ogling women and doing little other than reaping the benefits of collective bargaining, is an exercise in failure. And we get to pay MORE for it. More?! Aaa. Aaaaa! AAAAA!!!!!1111!!:(!!!!1 I say thee, nay! Nay!!