It's like Sex and the Suburbs and 30 Rock all rolled into one…
Oh Bombers. While it’s vogue to rant and rave against the Albany burrito bar, I actually like their tofu fries. There’s much room for discussion about the upstairs service, or sometimes complete lack there of, the varying size of the burritos or if they actually should be called such. But sometimes I’m in the mood for something completely unhealthy, quick and utterly delicious, I find myself at Bombers. Maybe Moes is cheaper and maybe Chipolte is more eco-friendly, but it’s Bombers. It’s an Albany thing. It’s the place you take your friends from out of town and stuff them full of food at fairly reasonable prices.
I actually like sitting downstairs. It’s a typical counter-service fast food joint set up, but with a television playing a good game and fun hipster propaganda about. Thursday night, it was busy. At each table was a pierced and tattooed skinny hipster or skater. And there was a line growing of young professionals wanting their dinner after a long day at the office. It being summer, I think we all assumed the college kids had gone home and any political types were still in their offices dead asleep under their desks. We were pretty much wrong; there wasn’t a free spot in the place.
Some of us tried to sit on the benches outside, it being rather lovely if not a tad chilly, but a group of rude women decided to use those benches to sit and smoke. They weren’t customers and they weren’t planning on moving any time soon. Exhausted, I stood and began to nibble my food, constantly glancing around for signs of clearing up plates, of gathering belongings, of shuffling out the second door. A group at the larger table began to to leave, and I desperately tackled a seat. I felt a bit guilty at taking the largest table, but my feet were sore and I had been working all day. I needed to park myself in a chair for a few minutes.
A small group of about four approached, looking a bit upset that I had snatched a large table for myself. I invited them to eat with me. And then the niftiest thing happened – we had a great time talking. We didn’t have anything more than the thinnest Albany connections, but for the 30 minutes it took for us to eat, we noshed as if we were old friends. It was great! I had excellent dinner conversation and company, and I was able to humbly point one of them in the direction of an item needed, something I had seen on sale at the mall. The most important thing though was that we all got to sit and eat our meal.
My verdict: Sharing tables with strangers is pretty fun. You never know who you’ll meet.