Barbecuey

The couple were reminiscing about a certain BBQ joint they had enjoyed in the early years of their dating, before it was torn down and rebuilt as a slick, stylish, upscale (at least in its own mind) place. It used to have a run-down charm, now it was filled with yuppies. They were both bemoaning and lamenting this fact, and also that the menu had completely been altered to cater to this new clientele.

“The only thing I didn’t like about the old place was the music. There was always this one guy with a patchy beard who would play Journey on the jukebox the whole time. When I eat ribs, I want to hear something a bit more barbecuey,” he complained.

“Barbecuey?” she asked dubiously.

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