When something’s taken out of context, it loses its original meaning.
The most common example of this, is when someone makes a statement, and another person quotes only part of what that person said in their statement, and then what the person was trying to originally convey becomes misconstrued, since not all of the information was presented, whereas if the part that was left out was included, it would have given the entire picture of what that person was trying to express in the first place, and there wouldn’t be any misunderstanding. Know what I mean?
But sometimes something can be taken out of context and it makes no difference whatsoever because whatever information was initially conveyed, gave a clear picture of the subject at hand, so the outcome would be the same with or without additional information. A perfect example of this would be Michael D’s. It’s a cafe; a shitty cafe in Moorpark. And just to make sure that nothing was taken out of context in that statement, I’ll quote myself again: it’s a shitty cafe in Moorpark.
Nope, there’s nothing in my statement whatsoever that can be taken out of context.
Another reason I know that Michael D’s shitty cafe in Moorpark wasn’t taken out of context, is because it was originally a shitty cafe in a bowling alley in the Valley. Now, just that statement alone would normally suffice in conveying information, but since I wouldn’t want anything I say to be taken out of context, I’ll explain in detail what that statement implies.
Running a bowling alley restaurant is a scuzzy endeavor, especially one from the Valley. Anyone who’s gone to a bowling alley knows what I’m talking about; they attract all kinds of riffraff! Now, just to be fair, there are lots of normal, good-looking people who go bowling, and yours truly happens to be one of those, so they’re not all scumbags. But let’s face it, historically, bowling alleys have attracted the undesirables of our great nation: heavy drinkers, truckers, prostitutes (at least, outside in the parking lot), foreigners, karaoke singers, bastard children, and people with rotten teeth; it’s a cross-section of the greatest America’s got to offer!
Everyone knows what type of food they can expect at these places too: basic, greasy, diner-style grub, nothing fancy. These bowling alley joints aren’t trying to be anything they’re not. At least, the older, authentic bowling alleys. The new, “fancy” ones are serving gourmet items to go along with the stinky, used bowling shoes, and charging an arm and a leg, but that’s another story…
So when Michael D moved his shitty cafe from the armpit of the Valley, out to crotch of Moorpark, he probably thought it was a step up (which is a ridiculous notion), and therefore thinks that his place doesn’t suck like it did when it was in the bowling alley. The problem is, he’s wrong.
I went there with my neighbor, who wanted to stop in for a bite before we went to the farm to visit her horses, and she loves the place, bless her heart! I can’t say the food was terrible. I mean, I ate it, and it was probably considered gourmet by the people at the bowling alley… put it this way, it’d be perfect if you ever found yourself lost out there in Hokeyville, and in desperate need of sustenance, just don’t go out of your way or anything.
I ordered the teriyaki chicken sandwich with potato salad, and it was fine, nothing special, although the potato salad wasn’t homemade, but again, this was a restaurant that used to reside inside of a bowling alley, so I understood what I was in for. My neighbor got the mushroom, swiss, turkey burger and she was diggin’ it. She didn’t like her pre-made, frozen onion rings though, said they tasted like cardboard, so when Michael D stopped by our table to ask us how everything was, she mentioned that they didn’t taste good. Well in true, bowling alley fashion, he said: “Yeah, well we don’t make ‘em here, they’re frozen.” and walked away, seemingly miffed that we would insult his goddamned awful onion rings! He didn’t even offer to replace them with something that didn’t resemble the stuff you pick out of a horse’s hoof! Now that’s bowling alley hospitality, if you ask me! I was shocked that he would even admit to the shittyness of his own food, but hey, ignorance is bliss I guess.
I wanted to be mad at him for being such a big “D”, as in “Dumbass”, since I don’t have patience for restaurant owners who don’t get the concept of “hospitality” and “return customers”, so I was hoping that would be the end of it, but he gave us a friendly goodbye as we were leaving, and it’s hard to stay upset with someone so “D” lusional anyway.
The only way I’d ever go back to Michael D’s, is if I suddenly found myself lost on the maze of back country roads there in Hispanic-ville, starving and in need of a teriyaki chicken sandwich. Other than that, I’ll wait until he goes back to the bowling alley.
593 W. Los Angeles Ave.