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Wingdome
Where the livin' is...GREASY
It's one of those hotter-than-blazes evenings in Seattle,
you know, the kind that only comes about twice a year. Anyway, I'm out
riding the motorcycle looking for a good outdoor place to relax, get a bite and
have some liquid. Fat chance, baby, I'm all alone, so the chances I'll get
a seat on the patio anywhere are slim and none. But wait, as I zip down
Greenwood avenue I breeze past my option, The Wingdome.
Hmmm... Never been there, never heard anyone I know say
boo about the place and I've always wanted to try it. I can see a seat at
the bar with a view out onto the street and patio where everyone else is
relaxing and taking in the later part of the day. Looks like a decent
outdoor view from the inside so I whip the bike around, hop it up on the
sidewalk and park it right out front, 'cause you know, any restaurant looks
better with a motorcycle parked in front of it on the sidewalk.
I wind my way inside and grab the still empty seat at the
bar. Then I take my first glance out the wide open front to the world
outside. Only this world I'm seeing is a little hazy and I begin to ponder
the days I spent in LA with all that smog, thinking that's why I left. Hey
now, this isn't smog, this is a smoky substance emitting from the kitchen, but I
don't see anyone running around with a fire extinguisher.
I browse the menu and watch as plate after mound after
plate after mound of spicy chicken wings hit the service counter between the
kitchen and dining area. 'Wow, these folks must really like the chicken
wings' I muse as I look around. And as I look around more, I look
down. It's pretty moist looking on the floor between the kitchen, server
area and out to the dining area, and getting moister by the minute.
I order a salad and some chicken strips. The wait
staff is very nice in taking my order and the service is prompt with my food
arriving in a timely manner. I ordered a honey mustard dressing with my
salad but was shocked to find it was red in color. I take a bite, and then
another and another. And now my mouth is on fire. I didn't see
anything on the menu about Spicy Honey Mustard? "That's how we make
it here," notes my wait person.
Anyway, that floor keeps getting wetter and wetter, and
that haze between me and the street is still looming. And those famous
chicken wings keep making their way to the dining area, and by now I've put two
and two together. This is a very greasy place. I'm reminded of when
I used to work a burger grill at a fast food place in my teens and how coming
home after work always resulted in a shower. And then I begin thinking
about all the showers that will be taken tonight as a result of the grease and
poor ventilation. And I feel sorry for the maintenance crew who
get to scrape the walls weekly to keep the place legal.
And then I start thinking about my motorcycle, and how
it's parked just out front, just in front of where that smoke is billowing out
of the main room. I'm not in the mood for cleaning it, so I wolf down the
rest of my food, and I'm gone. As I walk out I slip. 'Just another evening
at The Wingdome' I figure.
I'd like to suggest to the wait staff this: If you
like working around chicken wings, consider the Hooters alternative and save
yourself the nightly shower.
Well Seattle, we've already had one dome imploded, only
three to go:
| WINGDOME |
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4545 UNIVERSITY WAY
NE, SEATTLE, WA 98105
Phone: (206) 632-1033 |
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| WINGDOME |
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7818 GREENWOOD AVE
N, SEATTLE, WA 98103
Phone: (206) 706-4036 |
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| WINGDOME |
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ALSO IN BELLEVUE |
Patrick Thomas
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