This is one of the weirdest little restaurants I've ever been to before, and not in a particularly interesting or good way. It's tucked away in a quiet part of the neighborhood and I often wonder how anyone sees it and ends up there. I learned how one night when Chez Claudette was closed and remembered the "other" diner around the corner. The atmosphere is creepy in a way that I can't quite put my finger on... Maybe it's the fact that it's always empty , or maybe it's the old waitress who speaks in grunts, or maybe it's because all the tables feel a tad too small and the dining room looks more like a doctor's waiting room than a place where I would ever want to eat. who knows? But anyway, the souvlaki tasted the way souvlaki should and it made my drunk self happy. Sort of like booty calling an ex, I'll go back when I'm drunk and have no other
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