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PGH: Freedom Fries, Station Square, Monongahela Incline
Posted after returning from the trip.
This day was frustratingly slow in unfolding. I wanted to go to the Mattress Factory to see the exhibit of works made out of light, and I wanted to see the Sen. John Heinz Pittsburgh Regional History Center, and I ended up doing netiher of those things (but I did have a good time overall). Both places close at 5pm and are a few blocks from the bus; we rarely got out of the house before noon anyway.
This afternoon we were supposed to meet Jodi's cousin Rachel (she'd be dropped off around 3pm and picked up around 4pm), so we had to be back in time to accept delivery. Which meant that by the time we'd gotten a job application from the Giant Eagle (Annie or Drew called it the "Ghetto Eagle", but I like it just fine -- it's just an older store), and eaten at "Barb's Country Kitchen" (the first place I'd ever actually seen "Freedom Fries" on the menu), we didn't really have time to see either.
And, as it turns out, someone else picked Rachel up, so we didn't get to meet her after all.
So we went to the Monongahela Incline and rode it up to Mt. Washington, where we ate at Golden Palace. The food was just so-so (and, in fact, gave Jodi reason to come back to the restaurant sooner than planned), but the waiter was very funny. When I couldn't decide what I wanted, he said "Bzzt! Time's up" and turned to Jodi. Later, he asked if I wanted left-handed or right-handed chopsticks (and played it deadpan when I shot him a look -- I eventually said "Surprise me"). And he refused to give Jodi a fortune cookie until she'd joined the Clean Plate Club.
We saw a store called "Eiseltown" up there; given that the neighbordhood used to be called "Coal Hill" and was inhabited mainly by German immigrants and their families, I wondered if this might not reflect a need to use a donkey (Esel) to get down the mountain before the incline was built. (It's not just a tourist funicular -- it was built, and is still used, to transport Mt. Washington residents to their jobs.)
Having seen the city from Mt. Washington by day and night, we came back down to Station Square to get some Hard Rock souvenirs. At a store called "Over the Tracks", I saw the same metal chicken figure my dad has (made from a rake head, a shovel head, a hand-rake head, and other bits of garden implements). Cool!
There followed a frank exchange of views about TBLC. Honestly, it's not all 100% fun, but who would pay me $40k for that? Jodi thinks the only items in the "pro" column are salary and benefits; I also find lots of enjoyable work there and get some of my sense of self from the work I do. I also like just about everybody there, customers and colleagues alike. So it hurts when she has only harsh words about the work I do and the people I work with. Sure, I'd love to not be on call, but that's a part of this position.
We got so involved in the discussion that we ended up missing out on both Starbucks coffee and a convenient bus home, so we ended up shivering at Wood Street station for about 45 minutes. Let me tell you how much fun that was. Okay, I'm done telling you how much fun it was. The buses do run until about 1:30-2:00am, but they're more frequent during the day. (And truth be told, they're still better at midnight than Tampa's buses are at noon.)
This day was frustratingly slow in unfolding. I wanted to go to the Mattress Factory to see the exhibit of works made out of light, and I wanted to see the Sen. John Heinz Pittsburgh Regional History Center, and I ended up doing netiher of those things (but I did have a good time overall). Both places close at 5pm and are a few blocks from the bus; we rarely got out of the house before noon anyway.
This afternoon we were supposed to meet Jodi's cousin Rachel (she'd be dropped off around 3pm and picked up around 4pm), so we had to be back in time to accept delivery. Which meant that by the time we'd gotten a job application from the Giant Eagle (Annie or Drew called it the "Ghetto Eagle", but I like it just fine -- it's just an older store), and eaten at "Barb's Country Kitchen" (the first place I'd ever actually seen "Freedom Fries" on the menu), we didn't really have time to see either.
And, as it turns out, someone else picked Rachel up, so we didn't get to meet her after all.
So we went to the Monongahela Incline and rode it up to Mt. Washington, where we ate at Golden Palace. The food was just so-so (and, in fact, gave Jodi reason to come back to the restaurant sooner than planned), but the waiter was very funny. When I couldn't decide what I wanted, he said "Bzzt! Time's up" and turned to Jodi. Later, he asked if I wanted left-handed or right-handed chopsticks (and played it deadpan when I shot him a look -- I eventually said "Surprise me"). And he refused to give Jodi a fortune cookie until she'd joined the Clean Plate Club.
We saw a store called "Eiseltown" up there; given that the neighbordhood used to be called "Coal Hill" and was inhabited mainly by German immigrants and their families, I wondered if this might not reflect a need to use a donkey (Esel) to get down the mountain before the incline was built. (It's not just a tourist funicular -- it was built, and is still used, to transport Mt. Washington residents to their jobs.)
Having seen the city from Mt. Washington by day and night, we came back down to Station Square to get some Hard Rock souvenirs. At a store called "Over the Tracks", I saw the same metal chicken figure my dad has (made from a rake head, a shovel head, a hand-rake head, and other bits of garden implements). Cool!
There followed a frank exchange of views about TBLC. Honestly, it's not all 100% fun, but who would pay me $40k for that? Jodi thinks the only items in the "pro" column are salary and benefits; I also find lots of enjoyable work there and get some of my sense of self from the work I do. I also like just about everybody there, customers and colleagues alike. So it hurts when she has only harsh words about the work I do and the people I work with. Sure, I'd love to not be on call, but that's a part of this position.
We got so involved in the discussion that we ended up missing out on both Starbucks coffee and a convenient bus home, so we ended up shivering at Wood Street station for about 45 minutes. Let me tell you how much fun that was. Okay, I'm done telling you how much fun it was. The buses do run until about 1:30-2:00am, but they're more frequent during the day. (And truth be told, they're still better at midnight than Tampa's buses are at noon.)