Let me first tell you the solution: 1 Pepcid and 3 Tums tablets.
And now let me talk about the cause: My mean, horribly evil friend Susan and a place called the Basket Shack.
I wish I had carried my camera with me, but alas I did not. In lieu of photos, I will attempt to describe the scene with words.
The exterior of the Basket Shack is that of a mid-50’s strip-mall. The tiny restaurant has the corner unit position, and an old scratched up sign that simply reads, “The Basket Shack”. If you’ve never been there, I guarantee you’d drive right by. Well, except for the tiny parking lot full of vehicles.
As you walk in this teeny tiny restaurant there are 7 tables and about a dozen bar stools. Every single seat was filled, so we stood in a space that was approximately 4’x3′. My
butt purse barely fit in the space!
About 5 minutes in a table opened up. As we sat we were, well…I don’t want to say greeted because it was much less formal than a greeting…we were approached by an elderly woman with died orange hair and drawn on eyebrows.
Luckily, my girlfriend Susan speaks the language of Reva. (Reva being the waitress’s name.)
All I heard was, “Ya haf da bag n fur?”
Susan promptly replies, Yes, I want chili on mine with battered fries. And she wants a plain cheeseburger with onion rings.”
Reva turns to me, eyebrows permanently in the excited position but her face less than friendly, “ya jes wanner meat n chee? Plain ol’ bag?”
I frantically look to Susan with a pleading look in my eyes. I try to answer her question, “Um, yes? Plain, but with cheese.”
Reva, “tain’t a chee bag wi-out no chee.” Roughly translated, I believe she said – It aint a cheeseburger without no cheese.
She continued,”sway tay?”
Susan, “Yes, we’ll both have sweet tea.”
Then the 10 minute wait ensues prior to the arrival of the greeeeeziest, tastiest chee bag I ever had! And the onion rings were literally as big as my plate. I was able to consume about 3/4 of the burger and 2 of the 6 onion rings on my plate. And that was only possible by literally packing the food in so densely that my ears now have chee bag in them.
And why does my mean, horribly evil friend Susan have to accept all of the blame for this??? Because she’s the one that forced me to eat said meal.
Susan, “Hey man, I’ve got Thursday off. Why don’t we go have lunch together? I know this fun local dive that I think you’d really enjoy.”
Unsuspecting and trusting Alex says, “Cool! I’d love to see you!”
The food is amazing…. amazingly bad for you! And amazingly delicious. And amazingly greezy. And yes, I know it’s spelled greasy, but with food like this it must be pronounced and spelled the Southern way: G-R-E-E-Z-Y.
Luckily, Pepcid and Tums are a winning combination. And lucky for Susan, I know of an equally greezy spoon right here in my home-town that she will soon be required to enjoy with me. Pay back is called for honey.
So get the pepcid ready!!!