They say only alcoholics drink before noon. Well, Mr. Seventh Step, I guess you were wrong about Tim and Paul. Because Welch Ave. Station wouldn’t let them in until then.

By 11:55 a.m., Paul and Tim were banging on the bar’s glass doors, yelling “But we want to drink now! Now!” After the owner came out and told them if they didn’t quiet down they’d only serve four pitchers at a time, they shut up and waited out the remaining 30 seconds.

With seven hours of the King of Beers coursing through their veins, the two public intoxications waiting to happen found themselves standing – no swaying – in line at the gyro guy’s stand at the Taste of Veishea, the same one that frequents Welch Avenue every weekend. Wasting no time to capture their thoughts, here’s what was written down Friday night, while they were still in their, ahem, state.

Atmosphere

Paul: Eh, the sky was overcast. There were a lot of food stands around us, vying for our money. Also, lots of ways for our attention to be diverted, what with the shiny signs in focus, then out of focus then in focus.

Tim: Paul, this Paul guy. This guy’s the guy. He said, “Let’s go to the gyro guy.” And I was like, “Paul, you’re the guy. That’s a great idea.” Have you ever gotten to the point when you know your feet are there, but you can’t see ’em, and you can’t feel ’em.

Paul: Atmosphere Tim. Describe ‘mosphere. Sober up, dammit. [Paul slaps Tim twice across the face.]

You’re funny.

Tim: Oh right, the atmosphere. Well, the Veishea Battle of the Bands was blaring just behind the gyro stand. And live music while you eat is always a plus. The gyro guy makes gyros. What a silly word. Gyro. Or is it jiro? Or geero? I don’t know how to say it. I think it’s yiro, actually. Crap. We have to focus here, Paul. [Tim slaps himself across the face].

Paul: Focused. I’m focused. The sidewalk shoulda been carpeted. But aside from that, I liked all the people walking around. They stayed outta my way. I stayed out of theirs. Thumbs up.

Tim: The line was long. There were like eleventeen people all waiting for a gyro. But it wasn’t so bad. It was Veishea weekend, the weather wasn’t too cold, music played in the background and I was all smiles. Maybe it was because I was amongst fellow ISU students celebrating the tradition that is Veishea. Could’ve been that last pitcher, too. Thumbs up for me.

Service

Paul: I didn’t have to stand in line very long, but I didn’t like the fact that they set up the ATM right next to the Gyro stand, like we’re supposed to keep taking out money and buying gyros. Like we have that much money anyway, we’re poor college kids, c’mon man. And so I was thinking “I’m not going to buy that many gyros” and that’s what I said to the gyro guy, I said “Hey man, you can put all the ATMs around your stand as you want. I’m still only buying ONE gyro. And that’s what I said, and I’ll still only buy one gyro, unless it tastes really good and I get another.

Tim: I agree with Paul. I know I’d get pretty cold. Do you think they sneak pieces of gyro meat when no one’s looking? I would.

Paul: I know. That’s what I said. But I mean, man, I’m not buying from your ATM and swallowing your corporate agenda, you know, man? Unless it’s coated with some sweet-ass goat meat. I’m not about that. No way man. Thumbs down.

Tim: Yeah, screw them. The gyro only took about three minutes to cook, and in the meantime I noticed a jar on the stand that said “Tips. For when we do a really good job.” I felt that I did a really good job when I ordered my gyro, not stumummbling over any words. So I took a couple bucks. Thumbs up for me.

Food quality

Paul: I will say this about the gyros: They taste real good. And the guy says to me “What do you want?” And I said, I said it right to his face, “I’m double trouble.” And he said, “Double,” So I’m waiting around for my food and I realize how hungry I am because gyros smell real good, too, before they’re cooked or while they’re cooking and I say to Tim, “Tim, I’m hungry.” And I said, “Tim, I know we had pizza an hour ago, but can you believe that you’re hungry again?” And he shook his head.

Tim: My gyro cost only three dollars and fifty cents. I didn’t get the double meat like Paul because I thought that would mean double price and I didn’t have twelve dollars. Which isn’t too bad, really. And the smell when the slices of meat are plopped down on the sizzling grill would make Calista Flockhart hungry.

Paul, remember that time when we found that map, but it was in Spanish, and only Mouth knew how to read Spanish and we found the ship, but the bad guys found it too, and the bad guys tried to get the treasure first? Oh wait, that was “Goonies.”

Paul: I know. That’s what I said. So I said to him, “Here’s your four bucks. Now give me my gyro, guro.” And he did.

It came in a soft shell and I ate the soft shell and inside the shell there was a sauce and a bunch of grilled lamb meat and a whole bunch of vegetables. And I said “Tim, I’m eating vegetables,” and Tim laughed and he said “You would.” And some of the sauce dripped on my shirt but I wiped it off with my finger. The food was good. Thumbs up.

Tim: There’s nothing wrong with vegetables. Next to the gyro meat and feta cheese and cucumber sauce and the soft shell, they were the best thing on the whole gyro. The entire dining experience took about six minutes, which was completely necessary considering I started to feel my feet again. It was time to go back to the bar. Thumbs up.