Last night I was running late for a thing at the Brava, but on my way out of Bender’s I’d borrowed what looked like a french fry dipped in ketchup from someone’s basket. It turned out to a french fry dipped in third-degree-burn sauce, so I decided to stop into Humphrey Slocombe for a cooldown. My friend Mike and I both got Secret Breakfasts, in cones. They were pretty good, but not as good as they got when paired with shots of Beam procured at Pop’s with zero minutes to spare before the curtain went up at the thing.
Half-running from the ice cream shop to the theater:
“Hmm, think we should stop at Pop’s and get some bourbon?”
“Hmm, yeah, we probably should.”
I wholeheartedly encourage everyone to try this out.
Secret Breakfast photo by niallkennedy.
Pop’s photo by el_tim.
