It is apparently against the law to go to Philadelphia and not visit South Street. I went to meet a huge group from the conference, but some special cookies mysteriously caused the group to giggle uncontrollably and run off in a hundred different directions following the blinking lights and possibly running from sights like this building.
Left with my one close friend, Ellin, we decided to hit up Jim’s, which had a good reputation. I liked the art deco style with tin ceilings and everything.
To follow a purely scientific method, I had decided to get all of my cheesesteaks with everything, choosing provolone cheese. Cheese Whiz is just too much for me. I don’t get how anyone over 9 years old can go for that sweet, gloppy goo.
Unfortunately, Jim’s “everything” included shockingly bad canned mushrooms. I was not impressed by the tough steak either. After watching me eat it stoically, Ellin finally said, “Just throw it away.” We wandered along the hooting, drunken South fraternity row of South Street for only a few blocks before becoming discouraged and heading back to the hotel for a nice swim, the best part of the evening.
Later, back home I checked out Jim’s website. Is this happy family posing in front of meathooks hung with slaughtered cattle?
