The restaurant that Bryson walked into was yet another one of those places on St. Paul Street that was a month—maybe two—from going out of business. It had enjoyed its moment of glory when it first opened, but to call that experience anything more than a moment would be an epic exaggeration. It was a beautiful place, with barely enough lighting and lots of ambience. The food was awesome, usually local and fresh. Unfortunately, it was also pricey and finicky, which meant long waits and far too many customers who quickly decided that it wasn’t worth their time or the cost. Besides, if it wasn’t too much of a hassle to find parking on the street in the first place, it ended up being a questionable choice to make with an expensive car. This was downtown, after all. It was the same street that
