Blue Collar to Starched Collar

  • Sitting here on this Monday night, we are watching Diner, Drive-Ins & Dives and planning what dessert I will make next. While we are contemplating this decision, we were thinking back over the weekend and the different experiences that we had. Saturday found us driving around doing our normal errands. Around lunch time we began to think about what would taste good. Several friends have told us about Dinah’s Fried Chicken over in Glendale so we headed that direction. The bright yellow sign with black giant letters lets you know you have arrived at this 10 table restaurant. We walk in and immediately are met with, “hi honey, just sit wherever there is a place and we will be with you in a minute.” We are sitting there with people who you know are on their lunch hour from driving trucks which were in the parking lot so we knew the food had to be good. to just neighborhood folks who have been coming in there for years. Our waitress welcomed us with a glass of tea and a menu that looked like it had been around since disposable diapers were invented. We ordered our chicken, all the while taking in the conversation around us, when we hear a loud motorcycle pull up right outside the door. Randy tells me to turn around and look at the couple getting off the bike. They had to be in their late 70’s or early 80’s. He with long gray hair and she with spiked gray hair, shorts and boots up to her knees. As they came in the door, they were seated at their apparently regular table in back. Corn on the cob, cole slaw and baskets of chicken kept passing us by, until finally our plate of fried chicken was placed right in front of us. We just looked at each other and our mouths began to drool. The chicken was amazing. We thought we had been picked up in the Spirit and placed right in the middle of Kentucky. We were shocked that Dinah’s was actually some of the best fried chicken we had ever had. Col Sanders, eat your heart out. Because some friends were taking us out that same night to a restaurant in Beverly Hills, we knew we needed to have tummy room. We head home and google Providence, the restaurant where we will be going tonight. By looking at their web site, we knew that fried chicken would not be on the menu. It had food items I couldn’t begin to pronounce.
    The pictures of some of the food were prettier than pictures at the Norton Simon Museum. Oh my gosh, I didn’t know we were going to someplace that I needed to apparently wear Spanx and heals. Quickly I began to access my clothes closet and discovered that no matter what I would wear, I was never going to look like all the cute little trophy wives that would be ordering quail egg soup with tartare.
    After putting in our destination into the GPS, we head out to Beverly Hills to meet our friends. When the GPS tells us that we have arrived, we look around and cannot seem to find it and continue down a couple of blocks. Randy says that he bets that our GPS is wrong, as it is not used to going to such foo foo places. But seeing the addresses on the building, we know that we have passed the restaurant. We do a Uie (U-turn) and there in letters that are no bigger than the letters on our medicine bottles, is the word Providence. Guess we didn’t recognize it because there were only Masarati’s and Mercedes parked out front, no motorbikes like we saw at Dinah’s. Apparently, the smaller the letters and sign, the classier the restaurant. Randy said that he didn’t realize that we should have gone to get money out of savings to be able to valet our car. When the valet price is more than we usually pay for lunch, we tend to know right away that this will be a place where we will both be holding our breaths to be able to walk in without our tummies walking through the door before the rest of our bodies. Since I am still trying to breathe (it is just so hard to do that with spanx on) I quickly find a chair in the lounge so I can let my breath out. Our friends arrive and I was so thankful that I had had a few minutes to look around without them noticing that I was trying to take this all in. When the words, “gawally, this is just the fanciest place we have been in” came out of my mouth, Randy quickly stuffed a cheese wafer in to keep me quiet. We had to admit, the food was truly an experience. Even the food that I couldn’t pronounce was just scrumptious. The evening had been so delightful (yes, when you are leaving a place like Providence, you use the word delightful. When you leaving a place like Dinah’s, you describe the food as , “darn good”.
    As soon as we got in the car, off came the Spanx and the heals. Since our drive home took 30 minutes, that gave me time to send pictures of our dinner to our kids who think that we sit at home every Saturday night watching 48 Hour reruns.
    We have learned something this weekend. No matter if you are eating in a diner with motorbikes parked outside the door or a 5 star restaurant, where our car was the only one that was parked out back, each experience can be a great memory. It just depends on which collar you are wearing, blue or starched.

One thought on “Blue Collar to Starched Collar

  1. Both sound good! I would definitely feel more comfy at the chicken place too. I googled the Providence place–just curious, what did you eat there?

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