When Love Blooms at the Gyro Restaurant

Once upon a time in Tuscaloosa, Alabama there were two men who loved each other very, very much. One of them may or may not have worked at a restaurant called Glory Bound Gyro Co. Actually, they both may have worked there, or maybe neither one of them did, but it’s not important to the story. What is important is that these two men were very much in love with one another and wanted to share an intimate moment together. Or maybe they barely knew each other and after a few too many happy hour frosés, their mutual attraction became too strong to ignore and they played a game of hide the pickle with a side of walnut sauce, all the while someone was recording their sweet and/or anonymous lovemaking. See the video below.

The restaurant did release a statement about it:

This is (my completely made up version of) their story:

“Damn, that BBQ Ranch Gyro was really delicious,” said Peter as he wiped away the last few drops of ranch dressing that hung delicately from his plump, pursed lips.

The bartender, Dick, handed him an extra napkin. “Yeah, you really seemed to like it. Can I get you anything else? Some fried pita chips tossed in cinnamon and sugar topped with ice cream drizzled in caramel, maybe?”

“I’m stuffed,” replied Peter. “But what’s it topped with? I love a good topping.”

Their eyes met as Dick reached toward Peter’s unshaven face to blot one more drop of dressing from his sculpted chin. “You missed a spot,” he told him.  “It’s topped with a drizzle.”

“A drizzle of what?”

“A drizzle of caramel sauce, but I could probably find something else to drizzle it with if you’re interested.”

Peter considered the offer for a moment. “I don’t think I have it in me for dessert,” he told him.

“You don’t have it in you, huh? Does that mean you don’t have room for anything else in you?” Dick smiled, his teeth a pearly white, just the color of vanilla ice cream.

“Well, I guess I could find a way to squeeze a little something else in me.” Peter returned the smile, his eyes bright and eager and the color of freshly picked avocado, just ripe enough to eat with a spoon.

“What if it’s not so little?” Dick asked. “Would that be a problem?”

“Trust me, I can manage,” replied Peter. “Where there’s a will, there’s a way.”

At this point, the restaurant was relatively empty with closing time approaching in about five minutes. The few random tables had already paid their bills and were heading out and the bar only had one other customer sitting at it. Dick hurriedly walked over to a large bell hanging on the wall and clanged it with a metal pipe. The sound of it sent shockwaves though the restaurant, echoing against the walls and ceiling.

“Last call, everybody. Last call! We’re closed. Get out. You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.”

Peter excused himself to the restroom as Dick closed out the last checks and used three or four Wet Wipes to freshen up. “I’ll do all the sidewalk,” he told his co-workers. “And tell the kitchen I’ll break everything down. Just go home and have a good night, everybody!”

Ten minutes later, Peter emerged from the mens room. “‘So about that drizzle,” he said.

“So about that topping,”Dick replied.


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