Swig's Second Chance

This has been a busy week, what with the holiday and the Harleys and all. Please don't give up on me. I promise: I WILL write more often.

Many of you read the comment placed on my last blog entry from a Mr. Sorge. He is the owner of Swig, the restaurant I wrote about a couple of weeks ago. He says he wants a "chance to make it up to me." So I decided to give his restaurant another chance. We have a reservation for tomorrow evening. Mr. Sorge knows we are coming. I’ll let you know how he "handles the details of my return visit personally." What fun to be a celebrity!

After Swig, I will continue to eat at, and review, all 17 of the restaurants in the Third Ward. And, as someone requested, I promise to check out the ladies’ bathrooms. However, I hope you don’t mind if I don’t actually “use” most of them. Over Labor Day weekend, I discovered that I really have an aversion to public bathrooms.

We went out to dinner at BJ’s, a small, local restaurant in Hancock, Wisconsin, near our family’s cottage. As we were heading for the door to go home, I had my usual fleeting thought when leaving a restaurant, the thought that says, "I could stand to use the bathroom, but I can wait until I get home."

Well, home in this case is our cottage. And at our cottage all running water flows into a holding tank. Which has to be pumped out. At some expense. So to avoid having to pump that sucker too often, we use an ancient outhouse most of the time. I was perched in the outhouse when it occurred to me that I had actually made a conscious decision not to use BJ’s plumbing. Real, 21st century, indoor plumbing.

Now THAT’s an aversion to public bathrooms.

Stirring the Pot