Kuma's Corner redux

Any of you who have been reading this for a while might remember that I wrote this entry about my foiled attempt to drown my sorrows in the goodness of metal burgers at Kuma's Corner a few months back.

I wasn't confident that I'd have another chance to eat there, and after the first ordeal wasn't even sure if I wanted to, but then a colleague of mine expressed interest in checking it out, and that sparked an irresistible urge to go back -- to claim the fistful of red meat I felt rightfully owed.

We plotted and planned our approach, agreeing that a weeknight would probably be our best bet, and finally made the trek last night, this time enduring light rain instead of snow. Once we arrived, the hostess said we'd have to wait an hour and fifteen minutes for our table, which seemed paltry compared to the three-hour wait that made me and Drew opt for Burger King the first time out. We gave my name, found some space along the window ledge, and settled in for the long haul.

The ledge got a little uncomfortable after a while, but aside from that it was no bother. There was good music -- all metal of course -- blaring from the sound system, the enticing aroma of grilled beef (and chicken and pork), and some amusing people-watching opportunities. The best was this self-entitled, suburban-looking woman in a floral print dress who made her companion bring her a glass of white wine, and then selfishly claimed one of the bar chairs. Now I'm not knocking the lady for wanting somewhere comfy to sit, but those chairs were clearly meant for people who intended to either sit and drink for a while or have their dinners at the bar in lieu of waiting for a table. And yes, she WAS drinking, but the way she turned the chair away from the bar so she could face the other folks in her party -- I dunno, it just seemed to show flagrant disregard for everyone around her. Call me overly sensitive if you will, but it felt like she was saying, in a nonverbal way of course, that she was too good to stand or perch on the ledge with all the rest of us. And if there's one thing that irks the shit out of me, it's people who carry themselves with an air of superiority.

My colleague and I shared a knowing look after witnessing this, and she said, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" The question was enough to reassure me that I wasn't being overly hostile just because the woman didn't look "metal" enough to be patronizing Kuma's, and was much appreciated. It also helped me to laugh off the situation.

So what else? We sat and we sat and we sat some more, finally getting seated at the hour and a half mark by a very apologetic hostess. The delay didn't matter much...for me it helped make the meal feel that much more earned. I ordered a beefy monstrosity known as the Mastodon, which consisted of a half-pound angus patty, cheddar cheese, onion strings, bacon and BBQ sauce. It also came with waffle fries and a side of ketchup, and I threw in a diet coke and a serving of Maker's on the rocks for good measure.

I feel like the world's worst vegetarian admitting this, but damn if that wasn't one of the best meals I've had in a long time! It'll definitely ensure that I won't have a meat craving for at least six months, and the ambiance and the good company and music made the experience all that much the better.

I had such a good time that I didn't even mind that it was pouring when we left to catch the bus back to the blue line. The worst of the storm was over by the time I reached Forest Park so I was able to stroll home leisurely in the dark, walking off a little of the fat I consumed and savoring the wonderful sensation of misty drizzle soft and wet against my face.

Moral of the story? If you want to see Jenny get all reflective and poetic, simply take her to a metal burger joint! :)