Moon Under Water Pub

The Iceberg Catastrophe

There I was, rolling down Cook street and gazing through the blue hue of my motorcycle helmet's visor, looking straight into the soft fog while I listened to Red’s engine roar. At that moment, while we rode down the street, it felt like we were cowboy and horse off on our next adventure. Well…maybe not so dramatic, but every time Red and I head out in search of a burger, I feel like we are inseparable, like coffee and cream, New York and Mr. Trump, or those two love-birds from the Titanic.

While Red and I enjoyed the scenic route down through Cook Street Village and along Dallas Road, we couldn’t quite decide where our next burger would be. So after we passed a couple of coffee shops, some restaurants, and the early insurgency of tourists throughout Victoria's waterfront, we figured that we would avoid the chaos of the pre-tourist season and escape downtown.

After cruising for a bit, we rolled up to the Moon Under Water Pub and while I rolled Red into a parking spot, I couldn’t stop thinking about burgers, and the more I thought about them, the more I could taste that perfectly flame-grilled beef patty, fresh lettuce, crunchy pickle, red onion, a bit of mayo, some ketchup plus mustard, and, of course, a cold pint of beer. I lowered the kickstand, turned Red off, removed my helmet, grabbed my key and headed towards the door.

After letting the door close behind me, I saw the perfect table and it was staring back at me as intently as Rose while she was looking towards Jack when he was painting her naked (but not intently like that whole romantic car scene [steam, hand on the window bit]), because that would be weird. Honestly, it was just an empty table, but I swear, we totally had a connection.

While sitting and waiting, I thought to myself: “Man, the service here is about as awesome as Ben Affleck playing the lead role of Daredevil, or his contribution in Argo or even worse: Batman v Superman”. After sitting for a bit, I stood back up and took off my jacket, then laboriously hung it from the back of my chair. I figured this move would get attention as fast as Kylie Jenner in a bikini (don’t close your eyes), but I was wrong! So, I picked up the menu and, although I already knew what I wanted to eat, I pretended to flip through it, page after page, to let the waitress know that I would be ready soon (but this move to command attention was about as useful as that motorcycle in the music video Kanye West made with his wife). While my thirst for a crisp beer and my hunger for food was taking over, hanger was imminent. If I didn’t get a burger and a beer in me quickly, I would rise up like the Hulk (minus the short purple shorts because who wears purple shorts, right?), or maybe more like the Wolverine rising from that tub of water after his bones were fused to his new adamantium exoskelton—you know how dangerous hanger is.

Since there was no sign of beer or burgers, I felt that it was necessary to save the pub from my mutant-power destruction and hanger-rage. After 15 minutes of sitting in the middle of the pub, watching servers on each side of me deliver beer, food, and take food orders, I needed to get off of this ship and keep myself from turning green, because motorcycle jackets don’t come cheap.

After realizing what was happening, I knew it was over and that this ship was going down and I needed to jump! Sorry Moon Under Water Pub, but this burger experience was about as anti-climatic as buying a ticket to ride that massive ocean liner that ended up taking an ice bath in the Atlantic.


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Moon Under Water Pub
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