Jamaican beef patty

Yeah yeah yeah, I know I said I wouldn't put up any more pics of food cuz it's soooo 2010, but sheeit, this is different.  This is much more than food.  This is comfort in a greasy brown paper bag.  This is the taste of perfection.  The patty warms your hands before it warms your gut.  Irie.  Tastes like nothing else.  Kinda tastes a bit like cardboard, but that's beside the point.  Nothing beats walking down the street with a hot and greasy Jamaican patty in your hands.  Bite off the crimped edge and burn your mouth.
  Years ago, Rota and I went up to this sketchy little Jamaican 'restaurant' near Udisco, in a downstairs storefront that featured a small window (painted over with yellow, red, and green) covered in massive bars.  We went in and all we saw was a big empty room with massive speaker stacks blasting out reggae crazy loud. Seven dreadlocked gentleman that were playing dominoes around a small table in the corner stopped what they were doing and looked at us.  A standoff ensued.  Somehow, we managed to leave with our lives, and even better, they heated up a couple of Jamaican meat patties for us in a little toaster oven that was sitting on two phonebooks on the floor.
  This almost certainly happened to me, but it also may have just been a story I heard.