Baby Boy posted up something on Facebook about a restaurant he went into while on one of his jaunts around the country.  The place sounded like a pretty shady place to me….”Dicks Last Resort”…..hmmmm.  Well he said the food was good and the atmosphere was cool too.  I have no idea where this place is at and will probably never enter through their doors, but I wish them well.

It reminded me of a place in Virginia the guys I worked with took me to for a lunch a couple of times.  Again, I know it’s in Virginia, but have no idea where…somewhere just outside D.C.  I put my thinking cap on and really grunted to think of the name.  The one that keeps coming back is “The Virginia Inn”.  Don’t hold me to that because I’m still not entirely sure.  I can tell you that at 11:30 a.m. on the last day I was there, we stood in line outside a very dilapidated building, with smoke bellowing out a large flue on top.  It made the place look like it was on fire inside.  But occasionally the door would be opened, a few people would come out, and that many more would be let in.

My gang was a group of about 8 if I recall and we talked out loud and questioned if we would all be allowed in at the same time or not, but decided no matter what, we would all meet outside when we were done eating and ride back to work together.  That worked extremely well for me, because back there, there are no landmarks to tell you which way North is and I was totally lost.  My ride back to work was a necessity.  As we inched toward the door at a pace of one to five customers at a time, the ones coming out were noticeably loud and filled with funny stuff to say.  They served beer inside and so I just took that to mean they had been enjoying some of them.

When it came our turn and the door opened out came the same number of people that our group consisted of and we all got to go in and sit at the same large table.

Inside it was dark and it took awhile for our eyes to adjust to the lighting.  Around the room filled with people and chatter were things….papers, metal plates, dishes, notes, paintings, cups, signed footballs and basketballs.  I remember an old sleigh hanging on the wall.  The ceiling was filled with things as well and you hoped nothing would fall on you.  Some of it looked pretty heavy, but mostly the things on the ceiling were papers and dollar bills.  The place was packed and you could hardly move.  I don’t know where the bathroom(s) were and didn’t want to leave the table anyway, as one would have had a very hard time getting around the other tables and chairs.  Everyone was having a very good time in there.

Our waitress came around and she was dressed like a 50’s type waitress, pencil over her ear, chewing gum going a mile a minute and a big old smile on her face.  Her Virginia best accent came across almost as if it were a foreign language asking if we knew what we wanted to order.  There were no menus handed out.  So, because it was all new to me, I just listened to what the others were ordering and followed suit….A chili dog with fries and a draft beer.  Why not!  I was with the boss and that was what he ordered.  I figured if the boss can have a beer for lunch, so could I.

The dogs and beers came quickly and as we sat there chatting and eating the place changed customers at least twice.  People were being hustled in and out as quickly as they could.

At this time I did not know I was being set up, but one of the guys made a comment about having another beer and since I had finished mine I thought that would be a great idea.  The ladies in the group were only half finished with their meals anyway and so one of the guys hailed down the waitress.  She came over to me and asked what I needed….and not in a very nice voice I might add.  When I asked for another beer, she shrugged her shoulders, flipped her hip and went off in a huff.  I thought that very strange.

It wasn’t very long, maybe 10 seconds, and here came the big lady that had ushered us in through the door to set us down.  Her first question to me was something like:  “Have you eaten yet?  You had your chance to order as much as you wanted.  And now I’m told you want to have another beer!  Where in the hell are you from?  You aren’t from around here are you”?  I was rather set back at this but answered politely, “No maam, I’m not around here, I’m from Utah”.  Boy howdy did she ever go off on me!  She started saying things about my accent, my looks, my ways of thinking, my mother, my dad, my religion (which she had no idea of) and just about everything you can think of in a negative way.  The whole place had stopped chatting and eating and were all looking our way while she proceeded to call me all kinds of “dumb-a**”  and finished with “And now I want you to pay your bill and get the hell out of here!  We have paying customers waiting for your seat right now so ‘Git Out'”!!!!!

The gang I was with were laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes and they jointly paid for my meal….nice of them.  We all left with big smiles on our faces and I thanked the “big old gal” for the good time as we went out the door.

As for the food, well it was alright I guess, after all how can you make a hot dog anything but just what it is….hog lips and floor sweepins…top it off with some canned chili and sprinkle some cheese on top….the beer on the other hand was an excellent local beer without a name, as far as I know.  It was cold, mild and tasty.

That was over 20 years ago and I’d just bet by now the place has burned down, but if it isn’t and you are in that area, look it up and go in for your own surprise!

Bears Butt

December 12, 2014