The Road to Philly

Pete and I headed out of Manhattan as fast as we could Sunday evening. Unfortunately, that meant we were stuck in an hour of Holland Tunnel traffic toward New Jersey. Broome St. was such a parking lot we had a hot dog street vendor hook us up with some drive-by meal service as we waited.

We stopped by Pete's friend Molly's house in New Brunswick on the way to Philadelphia, not before we missed her exit and realized that the next possible place to get off the highway was ten more miles down the road, which means you pay more toll money. Thank you, New Jersey. The one bright spot to our twenty extra miles of driving was getting harassed by a Philadelphia football fan in a awesome 1982 Mercury Sable, who, seeing our Massachusetts plates, probably guessed we followed the Patriots, rolled down his window, honked at us, and pointed to his Eagles hat. We drove back up to him, honked, and flashed the Oakland A's cap right back. Nothing like confusing the hell out of people.

We stayed over at the brand-new home of Matt and Ellie Guidi, who live out on Germantown Pike, west of Philly. We met Griffin, their eight month old, who came out in his sail-boat pajamas for a late-night courtesy call. We also met Basil and Dillie, their black laps, who loved the Mustang.



In the morning, we drove out to Central Philly to relive some national history. I had an audition for Philadelphia Shakespeare Theater, got in and out, and we made our way to Independence Hall to check out the Liberty Bell (still cracked), and the Senate House.

For lunch, John and Joyce recommended either Pat's or Geno's cheesesteaks, two bitter, long-fueding cheesesteak rivals who live across the street from each other. We had a plan to get both and split them down the middle, but Ellie and Griffin picked us up and we headed instead for the "real McCoy," which apparently was Tony Luke's. We knew it was good when the only clientel were either uniformed Policemen or uniformed Phillies fans. I inhaled mine, so I'm not sure I can make an accurate comparison to another one if I tasted it. From what I remember it was delicious.










Cops don't like it when you take their picture ordering cheesesteaks.





Griffin Guidi is the man.