Heymatt:
What happened to the wooden black horse statue that was outside Mimmo's Italian Village (next to Filippi's) on India Street? Please reply soon. Our four-year-old daughter is quite distraught over its disappearance.
-- Jill Lonsdale, Clairemont
The wooden horse pulling the flower cart outside Mimmo's Italian Village also happened to be two doors away from, ahem, the Reader. A connection? Looks suspicious. We jacked up a few of the guiltier-looking drudges in the office, patted 'em down, sweated 'em a little bit. The old good-elf, bad-elf routine. Which actually doesn't work very well when you're grilling a perp at knee level. Anyway, we didn't get very far at the Reader. So we had no choice but to go down the street and ask Mimmo directly. Not as much fun, but you get more in the results department. The missing horse, which was created especially to decorate the restaurant many years ago, has been trotted off to storage. He's munching hay, out to stud, living out his senior years in a dark room somewhere over the espresso bar. Not being a postmodern pony, he didn't fit in well with the remodel of the front of the shop, and there didn't seem to be another place to put him.
Heymatt:
What happened to the wooden black horse statue that was outside Mimmo's Italian Village (next to Filippi's) on India Street? Please reply soon. Our four-year-old daughter is quite distraught over its disappearance.
-- Jill Lonsdale, Clairemont
The wooden horse pulling the flower cart outside Mimmo's Italian Village also happened to be two doors away from, ahem, the Reader. A connection? Looks suspicious. We jacked up a few of the guiltier-looking drudges in the office, patted 'em down, sweated 'em a little bit. The old good-elf, bad-elf routine. Which actually doesn't work very well when you're grilling a perp at knee level. Anyway, we didn't get very far at the Reader. So we had no choice but to go down the street and ask Mimmo directly. Not as much fun, but you get more in the results department. The missing horse, which was created especially to decorate the restaurant many years ago, has been trotted off to storage. He's munching hay, out to stud, living out his senior years in a dark room somewhere over the espresso bar. Not being a postmodern pony, he didn't fit in well with the remodel of the front of the shop, and there didn't seem to be another place to put him.
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