71After the Live Show and the tour of the palatial studio, Corey and Joel agreed to drop me off at my hotel (thanks again, guys). However, we did decide to stop for a Detroit classic, a Coney Island joint. I wouldn’t call it a restaurant. I’d be hard pressed to name a place that’s still open on a Friday morning at 3:00 am, except maybe a central station McDonalds.
I gather that it is comedy tradition to go to some really bad place for an early breakfast after a show.
74Joel ordered some pancakes with syrup. Corey and I had so-called Coneys, which is sort of like a hot dog, except that it has a lot of chopped onions and I think some chili too. I don’t even want to remember; that thing was foul. I think I managed to eat three bites. The sausage must have consisted of slaughterhouse garbage. The roll was probably the least bad part of the junk, but unfrotunately utterly ruined by the horrible sauce that was liberally dumped onto it.
Joel’s pancakes weren’t bad, but of course they weren’t great either, and he had poured all of the syrup he got on them, making them basically inedible. “No trees were involved in the making of that syrup,” he laughed. Those drenched pancakes were probably the sweetest thing I had tasted in several years. It hadn’t really sunk in yet, I guess, but I really **was** in America now.
