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Welcome
to the Johnson's by Patrick (6/28/99) Do you remember that summer when you were growing up and that family moved into that house down the street? A few days later your parents sent you over because they heard that the new family had a kid your age. "Go over and play with him. He doesn't have any friends." So you hop on your Diamondback and scoot on down the half block to introduce yourself to the new neighbors. A LaCosse wearing father and soccer mom warmly greet you and soon produce a short, pasty, fat kid who's attention span seems to be limited to finding new ways to torture the family cat. Just when you're plotting your escape, the parents give you candy and soda then suggest that "you kids go play in the rec room." While revising your escape plan to include your newly acquired candy stash, you descend a narrow staircase into a basement room furnished with long out of style junk and filled with the most incredible collection of toys you have ever seen. It suddenly dawns on you: you have fallen into the parent's trap. They know their son is a freak and will never have any friends, so they have taken to bribing the neighborhood kids with sugar and toys. You figure what the hell? The place is air-conditioned and the kid has an Atari. When school starts again, you can pretend you don't even know the little freak. O.K., I admit it, I was the little freak. Maybe that's a reason why I feel so at home when I go to Welcome to the Johnson's. Featuring drop dead bartenders, a better than average jukebox and pool table, WttJ wouldn't standout from many of the other bars on the LES. What sets this place apart from the rest? Ms. Pac-Man. Sure, plenty of other places have realized the attraction my generation has to it's adolescent pastime, but it seems much more appropriate with WttJ's rec room theme. Kind of like playing Atari again. |
My rating: 15 cigarettes |
