Noshing on primanti brothers late night after a night on the town in Pittsburgh after a memorial service for an old advisor.
I really wish I could say that Pittsburgh was a party town, but, you know, after you have been to Austin and Madison and San Fran and NYC, you just sort of realize it ain’t.
On the upside, the Omni Westin William Penn has no dollar dispensers on their soda machines, which means that the entire hotel was treated with me stumbling around the reception desk asking for quarters while wearing a Steelers T, boxer shorts, and socks and flip flops.
That’s just how I roll these days. It’s 2 am, I’m 42 drunk and grossly indifferent to your delicate sensibilities, your fucking soda machines don’t take ones, and I have Primanti’s to eat. Deal with it bitches.
I will note that it dos make me deeply sad that so many of you will never experience the sheer joy of a 2 am Primanti brothers sandwich. Other than Drover’s Inn wings, there is nothing better.