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sillyamerican

Nick and I took the ferry up to Manly yesterday, and ate a new-ish restaurant, called Whitewater.

It was all a bit fancy for Sunday lunch, but we decided to spoil ourselves, seeing as how we’ve both been putting in crazy hours at work over the last week. I haven’t worked that much since Interskate91 was child-labouring the shit out of me.

(Side note: Dear God, looking at that website is like time traveling. Nothing’s changed since 1998. Even the clip art images are the same ones they used to plaster all over their backroom signage: “If you have time to LEAN, you have time to CLEAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)

ANYWAYS. Lunch was good, if a bit underwhelming. The food was actually very good, and my Bloody Mary was like a 7/10 which is way better than average around here.

But our waiter was a total dud, to the point that it was distracting. I was obsessed with the thought that he was going out back to huff airplane glue in between each interaction with us. And he was American, which was extra humiliating, as I’m always banging on about how much superior American service standards are. It’s HIS fault my $30 chicken burger tasted like vague dissatisfaction.

Manly Wharf

Nick on ferry, not amused

shoes on fence

Nick on beach, still not amused

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