Hello, and welcome back to Off The Menu, where we explore the craziest stories about food from my email inbox. This week, we have the very last issue of Off The Menu. If you’re sad about that, well, maybe you should’ve submitted more stories so I didn’t run out. As always, these are real stories from real readers.
Kevin Carlyle:
My family and I often rent a holiday apartment in a certain area, not even really a town as much as a couple of different apartment complexes and one street with half a dozen restaurants and a bar. Every restaurant on that street is blow-your-mind amazing, and the bar is sleazy as all fuck but hey, it’s the only bar. If we weren’t spending our evening in one of the nearby Actual Towns, we could usually be found getting one or two drinks at the house of sleaze and briefly using the WiFi, just barely tolerating the boggle-eyed stares from the prehistoric men at the bar or the extremely suspect anecdotes told by that increasingly drunk Irish woman who just seemed to live in the corner.
Artie Swenson:
Talia Samberg:
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