Greek Garlic

It was a few weeks ago that I began a lonely journey into town to get my old phone fixed – since my new one had been stolen (most of the friendly and encouraging Canadians around at the time went out of there way to assure that “of course you’ll get it back. This isn’t South Africa, you know” and even proceeded to help me in finding it). Old habits – and expectations – die hard, and I knew my phone, although not very sleek or sexy, was making some little person very happy, and, with any luck, a little guilty.

Anyway, this is a happy story. I knew my phone was gone the second I was forced to leave myself a voicemail of profane realization. But these types of things seem like water of the back of any good old South African duck. SO I made a merry mission into town to get my old iPhone fixed.

Now Apple doesn’t house the most forthcoming of helpers. Especially if you have an old version of a phone that was never meant to be unblocked and brought into SA on the sneaky sneak. Bastards. So they sent me away under the “official word of Apple”. Rogers were a lot more helpful and happily directed me to a character more willing to do the undocumented dirty work I needed done – a simple removal of a jammed sim card.

“You know where Stepho’s is, right?”
“I’m from out of town?”
“So you don’t know where Stepho’s is?”
“I’m from South Africa.”
“Everybody knows where Stepho’s is. Davie and Thurlow. Everybody likes Stepho’s.”

Feeling nice and warm inside – I was obviously fitting in – I made my way up Davie St, looking for Stepho’s which was supposed to be next to my cell phone’s savior. I walked for a good while before deciding it was best to at least make sure I was in fact walking up the right street, and that it was in fact the direction of “up” and not “down” that I should be headed in.

“Excuse me, am I going in the right direction for Thurlow Street?”
“Don’t you know where Stepho’s is?”
Silence followed on my part, possibly amplified by the widening of my eyes.
“Well,” he followed, “ You can’t miss it, it’s on the left. Everybody likes Stepho’s. There’ll be a line outside.”

There was a line outside. But I was not a part of such a line last night. I had made a booking.

Stepho’s is really is gorgeous. Great Greek restaurant. Perfect for students. No entrée for over $10.95 (I had garlic prawns), but really, it’s all mostly under that.

All my friends still reek of garlic, I’ve become our mascot.

But anyway, the moral of the story is, you should know where Stepho’s is. Everybody likes Stepho’s.