Posts Tagged mo
About a month ago, I heard about this new restaurant/bar/pub opening up in St. Charles where the old Wilikers use to be. I had heard of Tilted Kilt before after one opened up in Arnold, MO, but never made the venture south to visit it. From their website the faire looked to be standard for a sports bar and the collection of beautiful ladies in scantily clad kilts and mid-rif bearing busty shirts caught my eye. Being of Scottish heritage, I was at the very least interested in finding out if there was indeed any celtic aura in the establishment or if the 6″ kilt was just a gimmick.
Today was opening day. I posted on Twitter that I wanted to go for dinner and asked for volunteers to suffer through the experience with me. My good buddy @kickassmktg (Dustin) answered the call and we met up around 6pm. As I walked up to the entrance, there was a father & son ahead of me. The father opened the door, took a quick glance and turned right around telling his son, “This isn’t our kind of place.” Clearly he didn’t check out the website first.
Upon entering the front doors, we were immediately greeted by a pack of beautiful young women eager to ensure that our dining needs were met. The place was busy. Very busy. Not surprising though for the first night of a highly anticipated restaurant like this. It took a few minutes for the server to find us a table but not long enough for me to get irritated. There was a small hightop bar table against the glass and we had a good view of the joint. We scoped out the amount of TVs (a lot) and noticed all of the decorations (flags, banners, etc). There was a hint of celtic flair but definitely Americanized. It may go without saying but all of the servers were female while the managers and bussers were male. There may have been female leadership around but I only noticed the males.
Our server (Courtney) approached us and was very happy to offer a TK Lager to get us started. I opted for the Sam Adams Seasonal if it was the Alpine Spring, but she had no idea and had to find out from the bartender. A moment later, a different server (Brittany) approached us and offered to get us drinks. Confused, I told her that Courtney was already helping us. She told us this was her table. When Courtney returned, they squabbled a little but figured out that it was indeed Brittany’s table. I didn’t give the situation much attention; I figured since it was the first night they were open, there was bound to be some uncertainty on the numbering of tables so a learning curve was in order.
I ordered the Chicken Fried Chicken. It came with steamed vegetables, garlic mashed potatoes, and garlic bread. It didn’t knock my socks off, but it was definitely delicious. The steamed vegetables included yellow carrots, which I had never had before, but they were…eh, ok. The garlic bread was over cooked and hard. I cleaned the plate of everything else. As it turns out, the Sam Adams Seasonal was in fact the Alpine Spring…that didn’t take long to go down. Dustin had some kind of chicken wrap and his only comment was, “Eh, it was ok.” The rest of the dining experience was filled with giggles and flirting from Brittany which I can only assume is the default character training for the chain restaurant. I wouldn’t say she worked overly hard for her tip, but she made us comfortable with her friendly and inviting conversation. Her final deed for the evening (and often times the most important) was the retrieval of the bill. From the time we asked for it to the time she brought back the receipt after running the credit card…maybe 4-5 minutes…it was quick. I’ve seen faster, but for standard bill retrieval timing, that’s pretty dang good, especially with a busy crowd.
The bottom line, I was intrigued and entertained enough to go back for another visit. With the shear number of TVs and the amount of usable square footage, that alone is enough to meet a group of buddies to watch the big game (of any sport). The beer selection was on par with any other local bar carrying all of the favorites. The beautiful women was just icing on the cake, but not the only reason I’ll go back.
I think this is the part where I give out some kind of rating. I don’t have a rating system. In my mind, if I’m willing to go back, they must have done something right.
Double Cheeseburger Hamburger Helper was still stewing in my already disruptive digestive system, when Gwenny started bouncing around like a jumping bean. The girls were both playing in Rhyen’s room, on the other side of the house and I could hear them ok. I was sitting at my desk in my bedroom, checking things (you know, Facebook, Twitter, my mail order bride status) and Gwenny just would not stop acting like a goof ball. For sanity sake, I yelled out, “Rhyen…you guys doing ok?” ”Yeah, we’re fine” was the response I got back.
I went back to my computer and just ignored the dog. But she just kept getting more and more annoying. She started to prance back and forth from the bathroom in my bedroom. The door was slightly closed…and the lights were out. At this point, all I could think was that there was someone either trying to crawl in through the tiny bathroom window or….they were already in.
I did what any red-blooded American would do. I reached for my gun, pulled the slide back and yelled, “If you’re in there, I’d suggest you use your legs to walk out, while they still work.” ….. nothing …… silence ……
I barged in to find not even an open window…fortunately. At this point, Gwenny is still going nuts and starts to make her way toward the front door now. ”Maybe she scared the intruder off and they ran out front?” I turned the lights on outside, yelled to Rhyen one more time to make sure she was ok, and then opened the door. As I stood there, silently, alone, it wafted over me like the smell of cheap perfume. I knew that smell…THAT WAS SMOKE!
I ran back into the house, and there on the ceramic top stove was the dinner pan, burning and smoking the left over cuisine. I had forgotten to turn the burner off. All this time, Gwenny was trying to warn me of the soon-to-be fire. I couldn’t believe it! I was so happy…all I could do was bend over and kiss her! Of course I turned the burner off and took the pan off the stove as well.
The girls came running out, “What’s wrong Da……WHOA, WHAT HAPPENED!!” The door to Rhyen’s room was closed…they didn’t smell a thing. Once they figured out what Gwenny had done, they too began showering her with love. As I looked into those big brown eyes of hers, my blue eyes started to well up a little bit. I think she knew…in fact, I know she knew…exactly what she was doing. Thank you Gwenny. We love you.
This morning, I was driving east bound on I-70 and had just crossed the Blanchette Memorial Bridge when traffic abruptly came to a screeching halt. Cars were swerving to the left and right. I could see a clearing ahead, where there were only 2 cars parked in the center 2 lanes. Of course, my first thought was, “What are these nut jobs doing!!??”. However, as I got closer, it became rather apparent that these were no nut jobs. These were men of honor, fulfilling a sense of civil humanity that their counter-part weekend drivers did not share. These 2 men, with what appeared to be their lady friends in the passenger seat of their vehicles, had purposely parked their cars to block 2 lanes so they could clean up a mess of construction equipment, debris and other truck bed trinkets that had fallen out of a moving truck. Even such equipment as a wheelbarrow. How could you not know that a wheel barrel flew out of your truck!?
I digress. I pulled up behind these 2 cars thinking, I could reciprocate the responsibility, but they were just finishing. As they ran to their cars and sped off, one continued on I-70 east bound and the other took I-270. This trash that they moved, was just thrown to the side of the road. These few bits of information led me to the conclusion that A) they had nothing to do with the trash and B) they didn’t even know each other.
These 2 gentlemen put their lives at risk in order to ensure that no one else would get injured from hitting such large debris scattered across the highway. Some would argue that it wasn’t their job and the risk was too great; maybe they should have called a MO-DOT official…who knows. What I do know is that I found great respect for them and once again humanity redeemed itself, just a little bit more.