This is "fight week" in Memphis. Quite coincidentally, an old friend I haven't seen in six or seven years was doing some training about an hour and a half from here. We agreed we'd rendezvous between 6 and 7 tonight at one of the cities landmark restaurants. Because both of our schedules were iffy we agreed we'd bring something to read or work on, and whomever arrived first would wait patiently. I arrived first.
From the parking garage to the restaurant I was accosted twice - once for money and once for money in exchange for directions. This area of town is not notorious for these types of encounters, but it is during "fight week." Then, when I stepped into the restaurant I was told I couldn't get a table. Both parties needed to be present. I explained that I was planning to order an appetizer and drinks and would likely order more if my wait was long. No deal. Ok, then, I'd like a table for one. Sir, we can't do that.
You could have fired a cannon in this place and not hit anyone at that hour. By the time we left at 8:30p.m., they still didn't have a wait to get in. The food was expensive and a terrible disappointment. Our walk from the restaurant to a coffee shop nearby crossed the paths of three more panhandlers. Memphis during "fight week" isn't a pretty site!
