well, my name is john yingling, and this is spiritist pizza, its been here since 1971. this town is everything to me. provincetown is a really special place where people can be themselves. we all did drugs, acted young and crazy, and tony was, he was probably a little wilder than some and not as wild as others. but he was always the guy who i always liked. and you let me sleep on top of the walk-in. i remember that. i cannot tell you how frequently i dream about the pizza. i m walking down commercial street, and i m sort of dimly aware that spiritist has moved and there s a sense of dislocation and a loss as i stumble around this sort of provincetown dreamscape of 40 years ago. i was still here and living in hope. unbelievable. many of the old places in p-town are gone. but the lobster pot is still
went threw a few owners then came up for sale and decided to give it a shot. generally speaking, who are your customers? most are retirees, they ve been coming since they were 30. this, you don t see so much anymore. dino-era homemade pies and lots of them. all baked on premises. raspberry cream pie for me, thank you. this is not something we see a lot of. old school pie like that and this number of them. everything is made here. everything is made here. and they re all the original recipes from the 60s. the index cards are so old, they re all faded yellow. this is exotic for me. really? oh, yeah. how s business? it s getting better. the drug problem has gotten rampant. took over may 1st, 2012, and by the end of that year i was broken into four times. it wasn t just me, it was multiple businesses time after time. i came in one morning to open up, and i actually had a guy in front of the register and he got up, pulled a knife out. i realized it really wasn t worth anyth
head full of orange sunshine and a few friends. provincetown, a wonderland of tolerance, long-time tradition of accepting artists, writers, the badly behaved, the gay, the different. it was paradise. the joy that can only come with an absolute certainty that you re invincible. that none of the choices that you make will have any repercussions or any effect on your later life. we didn t think about those things. i don t even know what i thought i was going to be. at that point, i certainly didn t think i was going to be a cook. i don t know what i thought i was going to be. i was just, you know, hanging out in a beautiful place. a golden time, i look back on those fuzzy memories and they seem golden anyway. oh, there s john waters. first love, and there s me. this guy, johnny yingling was sort of a central figure in all of our lives.
generally speaking, who are your customers? most are retirees, they ve been coming since they were 30. this, you don t see so much anymore. dino-era homemade pies and lots of them. all baked on premises. raspberry cream pie for me, thank you. this is not something we see a lot of. old school pie like that and this number of them. yeah. everything is made here. they re all the original recipes from the 60s. the index cards are so old, they re all faded yellow. this is exotic for me. really? oh, yeah. how s business? it s getting better. the drug problem has started to really get rampant. took over may 1st, 2012, and by the end of that year i was broken into four times. it wasn t just me broken into it. it was multiple businesses time after time. i came in one morning to open up, and i actually had a guy in front of the register and he got up, pulled a knife out. i realized it really wasn t worth anything over a knife. what you re doing here is terrific. i mean, where
memories and they seem golden, anyway. oh, there s john waters. first love, and there s me. this guy, johnny yingling was sort of a central figure in all of our lives. well, my name is john yingling, and this is spiritist pizza, it s been here since 1971. this town is everything to me. provincetown is a really special place where people can be themselves. we all did drugs, acted young and crazy, and tony was, he was probably a little wilder than some and not as wild as others. but he was always the guy who i always liked. and you let me sleep on top of the walk-in. right, i actually remember that. at spirited. i cannot tell you how frequently i dream about the pizza. i m walking down commercial street, and i m sort of dimly aware that spiritist has moved and there s a sense of dislocation and a loss as i stumble around this sort of provincetown dreamscape of 40 years ago. i was still here and living in hope.