I got my karmic payback for making light of herpes the other day.

You see, shortly after making fun of the social disease, I sprouted a pimple on the inside of my lip, and anyone who’s ever had any sort of blemish or bump or whatever inside their mouth knows that they can hurt like a bitch!

So it was without thinking of this ailment that I bit into a pepperocini while at Mario’s. OH GOD DAMMIT TO HELL THAT BURNS! I shoved the generous portion of the offending pickled peppers to the side of my plate.

I took a bite of my heapingly huge foccacia sandwich (your choice of fillings: chicken, eggplant, sausage, you name it!) as the crusty corner of the deliciously perfect foccacia brushed against my lip-pimple. OWW! OH GOD, OK, I WON’T MAKE JOKES ABOUT PEOPLE’S LIP & COOCHIE SORES ANYMORE. AND I WON’T USE YOUR NAME IN VAIN. PLEASE, JUST MAKE IT STOP.

But it was so good, I continued to eat.

Thank you, Mario, for serving up delicious food, a very cozy and homey atmosphere, and lessons in karmic retribution and humility before god.

Note to those confused by the name of the business: The food is not Bohemian in any way, and while cigars are sold, they cannot be smoked here. If anything, it’s more of a casual Italian restaurant and wine bar with a dark, homey atmosphere that could’ve once been a den of cigar-smoking and backroom deal-making.