Texas Red Hots, NY.

Texas Road Find

Work brought me to the city of Plattsburgh NY recently and as I am prone to do, I approached my destination from the less travelled side. Today I ventured off I#87 an exit or two before Plattsburgh and scooted up Rt#9 which runs the edge of Lake Champlain. My eyes ever mounted on a swivel, the scalloped color of red and the message it shouted forced me to take a sharp left into the parking lot of this vintage drive in. Being a fan of Guy Fieri I couldn't resist. My objective was to snap a quick photograph, spin around in the parking lot and finish up my two mile journey up the road. 

How could you not love this face? 

I pulled up along side and grabbed my camera which is always less than an arms length away. Before I could pull it from the case a young man in his twenties approached my driver side window. He appeared on a mission and I was prepared to be asked what my intentions were. I was uncomfortably mistaken. He had a pad and pencil in his hand. He was coming out to take my food order. Apparently a non-carpetbagger would have known that. I braced myself. "What can I get you?" the polite young man in the clean t-shirt asked. "Um", was the only response I had prepared at this point. I downshifted quickly. "I didn't know you had curbside, I just pulled in because of your neat looking building. I really didn't want anything to eat. Do you mind if I just take a picture?" He handled it better than expected. The parking lot was empty and the tourist season was waining. I'm sure there were still bills to be paid. He said, "Sure, go ahead." and retreated to the side door a bit perturbed--I would imagine. 

"You want to give the place a hug."

I felt like the guy who just told the neighbor kid he was too busy to play right now and that he needed to go back home to his mother. My guilt was not strong enough to keep me from jumping out and grabbing a picture or two though. I walked around to the front of the building which is a solid (?) wall of glass block. In the middle are two classic pane-glass doors. As I raised my camera trying to get a distinct angle, I zoomed in on one small pane of glass. There like a beacon was the reason my truck came to rest in the parking lot that day. STOP HATE was the message. 

STOP
HATE 

We'll, now what. Guilt did grab me by the arm pretty hard this time. Maybe I am just a little hungry? I tapped my back pocket to be sure I didn't leave my wallet in the truck and I went inside. The place was as immaculate as it was old. The counter was a mini-horseshoe and quaint as hell. "I think I'll try a Michigan with onions -- and a cold Pepsi. I gotta try one.", I said with a you-got-me smile. The year my odometer turned 50 I stopped being bashful. "Do you mind if I take a picture of that, No Spitting sign?, That is so cool." The kid never flinched, "Sure, go ahead." 

I didn't want to test the law. 

Two dogs, a tip, and ten bucks later I was full--artistically and belly. Indigestion today was welcome. I stood and shook the young mans hand. I thanked him for being a gentlemen and letting me rummage through the restaurant. I asked how long the place had been there? He said this was their seventieth year. The place was as fresh as a college freshman on the campus to my north. As I turned toward the door one more photo...  

Ahhh, that was good!