After an evening of bumming (around the local area), my partner and I awoke to a fervent hunger. Our tummies in need of fill, we threw on some rags and sped hastily into town.
A gay little saunter up and down the main strip saw us torn between two local establishments. To our left, Thirty Six by Fourty Two. To our right, Kenbuli. My man (who makes all the decisions) quickly settled on Twelve by Nine and pulled up a pew.
Hubby selected the big breakfast for himself and the breakfast sandwich for me (I'm partial to a little sandwich).
Our coffees arrived in an acceptable time frame (considering the throng of patrons) and we were pleasantly surprised.
The food took considerably longer and my huggy bear's patience started to dwindle. He can be quite rough when he's cross
After what seemed an age, our morning finally climaxed. Our bweakfwast placed gingerly before us, mouths agape, we inserted the sizeable portions.
The big breakfast was "scrumptious", although hubby would have loved a little sausage to wrap his lips around.
My sandwich was anything but ordinary. I'd looked at it long enough. All I needed to do was relax and accept it. Upon entry, it was hard on the outside, but it abruptly exploded in my mouth at the first hint of teeth. With nothing left to do, I swallowed the warm, juicy goodness.
Overall, Nineteen Twelve was exactly what the doctor ordered. We'd have stayed for another coffee, but hubby had some new found energy to burn off
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