The strangest and most wonderful things get thrown over the transom here at Fillmore South: Enthusiasts have sent in never-before published pictures of the band, and streams so multitudinous that if they flowed into one another many villages would drown, and little-seen videos from the depths of YouTube.
But now this:
This, Enthusiasts, is the “Grateful Dead Menu” from the Washington D.C. Four Seasons; the place made it up for the band when they swung through in ’95. It may be a long way to the top if you wanna rock and roll, but once you get there, the accommodations are first class.
Also: the pancakes? There’s a lot to that “a” in between the ‘cakes and the syrup. The difference between “pancakes in honey & berry syrup” and “pancakes in a honey & berry syrup” is about ten bucks. For that money, I want a definite article. Bring me pancakes in THE honey & berry syrup. Fuck all those other honey & berry syrups out there.
Breakfast, sure, but what her lovers, Lunch and Dinner? (Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner are in a polyamorous relationship and sometimes they invite Snacks to orgy with them.) Here you go:
How do you spell bougie? Boozhie? Bouy-face? Anyway: I don’t even know what half this bullshit is. I watched a spy movie once where the handsome man and the foreign man chased each other around Europe trying to find the Phyllo Parcel.
Wait, hold on: were they all fucking vegetarians? There’s no actual food on here, just the stuff you surround food with. From the inclusion of the grilled vegetable kabob, we can infer the kitchen has access to both a grill and sticks, so why not throw some food on the stick in between the vegetables? That’s what a kabob is: impaled, alternating food and vegetables.
We will also overlook the repeated use of the word “Oriental” and point out that once again “a” has appeared in places it is not needed. “A casserole of three beans” is how an alien would say that phrase. Like, the alien would be undercover as a person and everything would be fine, but then it would say that and someone would get suspicious. Because that is not the human way to express that.
This exceedingly trivial piece of Dead ephemera does come with a story. According to the person who sent this along (if you’d rather not be anonymous, raise your hand in the Comment Section), this menu “did not apply to Garcia” who could and did order whatever the hell he wanted from room service 24 hours a day.