Fargo’s Pizza

I can imagine the conversation.

“OK, our pizza isn’t going to be much of a draw. What can we do to get customers to come?”

“I’ve got an idea. Let’s decorate the place like an old western dance hall, complete with a player piano, chandeliers, stained-glass windows and servers wearing Victorian dresses.”



I found this old guy partying by himself both sad and amusing.


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The place was crawling with parents with young kids. There were also four birthday party groups spread about. I ordered garlic bread, which was made from a brat bun. The pizza was dry and boring and sat in my stomach like a load of buckshot. Should I ever be compelled to enter the doors again, I intend to settle for the salad bar.

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