Ferraro’s Fine Italian Stalkers

It might prove to be a great irony if my History capstone course turns out to be the low point in my career as a student in the MSU history department. Not my performance–but rather, the worst class I’ve taken.

Last week, my classmate Whitney had to physically restrain me from clawing my eyes out.

This week, I resorted to 6th grade tactics. For two-and-a-half dragging hours, I bored holes into my desk using a dull protractor. And my teeth.

Next week … perhaps illegal hallucinogenic drugs might be just the thing.

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Nice day, today. High in the upper forties. Think it breached fifty, yesterday. Warm and sunny … and it puts me in quite a mood. Let me tell you. Not. A. Happy. Camper. No sir.

It’s been weeks since we’ve had snow. And what’s left is all just … melting away.

I’ve hardly felt the urge to use my ski pass. Groomed runs and icy bowls just don’t quite do it for me like they used to (back in the days when I didn’t know there was such a thing as powder … and when there weren’t any green runs down the bowls, so I didn’t want to ski them anyway).

I’M SICK AND TIRED OF SUNSHINE! GOD DAMNIT! SUN, SUN, GO AWAY! COME AGAIN ANOTHER DAY! (See: Summer. It’s not your time yet. Don’t be so impatient!)

And the days are getting longer. Which is weird … because I don’t remember them ever getting short. And it’s a little weird, yes, that I’m disappointed that the days are getting longer. Normally I’m excited. It’s just that … I don’t feel like Winter has really come yet?

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Well, now that you ask, I have been thinking of moving to Alaska. For a while now. Hrm…

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Speaking of which … not really, but… there seems to be a problem with staying logged in on my site. I should really fix that but … sorting through pages of poorly written PHP to troubleshoot an intermittent error … sounds only slightly more scintillating than skiing down sheets of ice.

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And, logging in is important. But first, a funny story about that…

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So, a week ago, Chris and I went out to this fancy Italian restaurant called Ferarro’s for the first time. Everyone knows that their food is overpriced, and not very good, but we went anyway–willing, by this point, to pay quite a premium to try a new restaurant.

And … expecting a mediocre dining experience, we were thoroughly disappointed. It was, without a doubt, the worst dining experience I’ve had in Bozeman.

So I got home, and created a Yelp! account (I have the app on my iPhone, and decided that it’s useful), and ragged on Ferraro’s. You can read the review on Yelp! here.

That’s not interesting. What’s interesting is that, a few days later, I received a phone call from the manager of Ferraro’s–Mike Something.

This was strange for two reasons.

First, his manner was strange. He told me that he’d noticed I’d posted a review online, and that Ferraro’s had “clearly dropped the ball.” He wanted to invite me down to the restaurant to try Ferraro’s again. But really, seems to me, what he really wanted was to coerce me into changing me review.

He mentioned something about bad reviews being bad for business… and mentioned twice that “we’ve been here fifteen years! We must be doing something right!”

The second weird thing is that … he called me. At 10:00 am. On my cell phone.

It’s weird because my cell phone number (which is new, by the by) isn’t available on Yelp! or Menuism, where I posted reviews. I can only assume that he saw my user name (markegge), Googled for Mark Egge, found my blog, and gave me a call.

Hrm.

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Yup. Well, I’ve gone on too long already. More, another day!