It’s All Greek
Filling up on phylo dough

“Nothing says it betta than feta” has always been my motto — which is probably why I came back from my high school trip to Greece looking like a smiling stuffed olive.

Athens may have been a filthy town, but at 17, all I saw was deep-fried phylo-dough deliciousness. Incidentally, that’s probably also why I saw no action. When everyone else on the trip was hooking up, I was left with nothing to make out with but my gyro. It’s no wonder then that Charleston’s annual Greek Festival at the Holy Trinity Greek Orthodox Church is a bittersweet celebration for me.

Having missed last year’s event, this weekend was especially exciting. But alas, it was hotter than a snow-blister out there, and the combination of tart Grecian wine, the pounding Aegean folk music, and the 90 degree heat had me feeling wrecked.

Seeking refuge, I took it inside to the church auditorium where a number of apron-wearing ladies waited to feed me baklava and nurse me back to health. With that first sweet bite, there I was — once again sitting on the Acropolis at 17, panting from the hike, watching Jamie Ellis and Jake Simmons suck face.

Ah, youthful heartbreak. It will always taste like chopped walnuts and Athenian smog. —Kinsey Labberton

Goodbye to Movies in Marion Square

Last Friday was the final installment of the City Paper-sponsored Movies in Marion Square series. Juno was the featured film, and hundreds of fans — mainly exam-ravaged college kids, with a few families strewn about — packed the park for a hilarious lesson on the importance of safe sex


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