I used to be a regular here when I was a youngster. Granny would bring us to the cafe and we'd literally walk behind the counter and stuff as much 3/$1 candy bars into our pockets as we could carry, then wash it all down with an ice cold Dr. Pepper, of which we paid for using the winning caps for free Dr. Peppers that were sitting by the cash register. Granny was already going to pay for it, but swiping one of those caps from right under Sherry's nose and then immediately redeeming it was quite the thrill. I rarely ate a meal here, but when I did, it was the chicken strips. I hear they have some sort of chicken strip salad bar these days that attracts folks from a 30-mile radius?! I didn't realize the cafe had come up with a marketing strategy!
There was this one time, must have been the summer of 1998 or so, when the cafe's only employee had an appointment of some sort, and it was either they shut down for the afternoon (unheard of!) or me, a 15-year-old whose only food serving experience was throwing bales of alfalfa to lambs, and my 10-year-old brother would have to step in and take over. Now, to be fair, Sherry told us we could have all the soft-serve ice cream we wanted while we were working, but little did she know I could eat ALL of it. Like, I sucked the entire machine dry and then broke it trying to figure out what ingredients would make more ice cream. Someone eventually came in and wanted ice cream and I had to tell them I ate it all. Virtually no one else stopped in all day, thank heavens. But at 5:55, we were about to shut the place down without any major catastrophe, when some out-of-town trucker stopped in and ordered a hamburger and fries. Oh shit. Alex and I hadn't the faintest idea how to cook these things. We eventually found the ground beef and threw a massive 3-pound wad of beef on the fryer. Alex went in search of a bun and onion, but came back with only a potato. We decided to try to fool the man into thinking slices of potato were both the bun and onion. The man asked for a glass of milk. The only milk we could find had expired before I was born and came out in big gray chunks all over the table. I tried to cook fries but couldn't figure out how to warm up the grease, so I pushed the basket into the solidified grease to the best of my ability and there they sat, soaking up lukewarm lard. The man opted not to eat his bloody burger with uncooked potato slice, frozen grease fries, or squishy milk, but even so left us a $2 tip. He must have felt sorry for us. Another couple walked in about that time as well, but we were too distraught to remember what they might have ordered.
The cafe has since changed locations and will probably live on for eternity. I can't honestly think of any other business that has had the same sole employee as long as I've been alive. Hats off to Sherry, I guess. She'd be due for a promotion if there were anything to promote her to. read more
