Colon Crushing Canines

Feeling the small raised surface areas on my QWERTY style board, specifically on the F and J keys, slicing into my index fingers like a couple of lumberjacks hot sawing white pine coupled with an excel spreadsheet littered with figures eating away at my face like a I just went plain crazy Rudy Eugene reminded me that I was long overdue for a lunch break. So I called a buddy of mine, who shall remain nameless due to possible crimes committed against humanity, and he agreed to meet me at a small spot nestled in a quaint brick courtyard at the base of Spokane’s Parkade named Santorini’s Greek Cuisine. I happily agreed because this is a place I have been many, many times before. Although I have to admit it’s been a few months since the last time I stepped into this Gyro slinging saloon.  So I quickly peeled my face from my ThinkVision monitor only to embrace a short elevator ride into the arms of the general public.

Unfortunately for me sprinkled about the general public is the occasional homeless guy who goes out of his way to inconvenience me with a string of idiotic inquiries. I don’t condone giving money to a person who’s too lazy to put together a sign with a black sharpie and a slice of cardboard. Panhandling used to be a glamorous craft in which you’d use an old plaid hat or a tarnished tin cup to gather charity. And after collecting that charity you'd illegally hop on a boxcar only to be whisked away to the next majestic metropolis after embracing America’s breathtaking landscape. Now it’s just a way to gather pennies by simply saying something less than clever such as, “I need change for the bus” and adding “do you have a cigarette” if the first doesn’t succeed. The art of the begging, an unpublished work of Sun Tzu homeless step brother, has died and it took with it any compassion I have for today’s version of the once lovable, adventurous, and occasionally crazed hobo.

After dodging the homeless for a few short blocks, followed by a swim through an alleyway, and a citation beckoning skip across Howard street, I’d finally reached my destination. I remember glancing at the Greek plate grazing patrons sitting happily in the designated L shaped cage just outside and thinking it’s been too long since I’ve had a comforting gyro, a platter of fries, and an ice cold beverage to wash it all down with. The thought caused me to smile and ejaculate just a little bit as I passed through the single glass door. I made brief eye contact with my nameless friend who was face deep in Gyro like he was tossing a prison salad dripping with sweet strawberry syrup. He quickly wiped his tzatziki lathered lips and shook my hand just before we started conversing about the past weekend.

Just so you know most of the conversation at this point in time has been completely purged. The truth be told, I was probably purging his casual conversation as it fell from his tongue and seeped into my ears. I can only remember snippets of audio clips such as joking about grinding down a flock of deer with a massive truck, specifically a fire engine. I do however distinctly recall ordering my food, you know the Gyro, fries, and a drink lunch special (only 8.99 or $9.74 after tax), just before he began the most amusing story I had heard all day... Actually all month! Below is that story as I remember it.

Did I tell you what my dogs did? One day while I was out on my property I was standing by my rig and noticed another rig on my land. Now usually I blast my horn to scare off the deer, but this time I was too focused on the rig on my property to even bother. Soon after I saw a man jump in the rig, start it up, and then drive off. Now I was hoping he’d drive close by so I could explain that he was on private property, but he drove off in another direction. It wasn’t long before I heard a childlike screech and the sound of my dogs barking. You know my dogs. They’re playful and happy and wouldn’t hurt a fly. Now the wife thought it was our niece playing with the dogs, but I explained no way she would be out this far all by herself. So I ran over to the screech which quickly went silent unlike the sound of my dogs. When I reached my dogs I saw what I quickly realized to be a very dead fawn. It had a slobbery neck where my dogs were probably trying to play with it like a squeaky toy. I didn’t see any puncture wounds on its neck, but I did however notice a spot of blood on its anus.

Now where do I begin??? When he first started his tale I thought maybe he’s going to tell me that the guy trespassing on his property was actually a serial killer planting rows and rows of cadavers that would be harvested by the authorities years later. But when he switched gears and began conversing about his barking dogs and a childlike screech, I then concluded that a one year old tit leech crawled their way into an open well, plunged into the murky waters below, and his less than instinctive mutts were merely acting out a cookie cut episode of Lassie.

And I almost started whistling that infamous Lassie tune, that is until I heard the words “spot of blood on its anus.” Now who would have thought that this story would weave away from that innocent Lassie episode only to gruesomely morph into the Edward Olmos classic “American Me”. I believe the quote is, “Next time there will be shit on my knife and not on my dick." Talk about a dog day afternoon for that poor young fawn. I can only imagine how blissful that fawn felt when it slipped out of its mother's womb and onto a bed of tall plush grass covered in cool morning dew. That is until a band of colon crushing canines sailed in on a sea of slobber with the thought of pushing in its poop.

Nothing like hearing about a pack of dogs committing 45 counts of abuse, Sandusky style, to the backside of an innocent baby fawn just before taking in a mouthful of evenly sliced meat pressed between a large warm pita accessorized with lettuce, onions, tomatoes, and a healthy serving of tzatziki. I can honestly say this is the best Greek food you can get in Spokane’s downtown district. Even the golden color flashed over the fries is enough to make Aphrodite spread her legs and spew out a rainbow of fluids from her vagina. Skittles anyone? And just so you know they offer an assortment of appetizers, sandwiches, and dinners such as humus, falafel, kabobs, and moussaka just to name a few, and will happily accommodate vegetarians and their need to gobble up leaves for nutrients.

Santorini's Greek Cuisine

112 N Howard St

Spokane WA 99201

(509) 456-2349