Vaguely missing a gruntle

I had a decent pizza dinner last night. I haven't been to this restaurant in over 20 years, but I vaguely remembered it as being pretty good. Plus, if it's survived and thrived for this long, it should be good, right?

Or something.
It was certainly crowded. Not, by any stretch, a hip young crowd. I think we were the youngest in the room. The waitress was older than my mother. We didn't find this out for a while, though - it took 15 minutes after we were seated to get water, and then longer to place our order. Then 45 minutes for the pizza. The tip-meter was quickly ticking down...

The pizza was pretty good, although I prefer a thicker (read existent) crust near the pie's center. It wasn't worth the lack of service, though. I won't be back for another 20 years.

Potrero Hill Street Blues

(cue theme song)
I left my house around 5 AM as usual. It's dark out. As usual.
About a block away I turned the corner and down the street was a car in idling the middle of the road. I slowed, and as it didn't move, I honked.
Then I got closer. It was a cop car. Whoops.

The cop followed me for two blocks and then pulled me over. The best thing I could do was to not show any attitude -- I gave him my license so he could verify that I'm not a felon (and not driving a hot car, which I guess is what he was doing there). I repeated that I didn't see it was a police car when I honked.

After only a little bit of hassling, he let me go.
Welcome back, turgid drama. I can't say I've missed you.