Silicon Investor (SI) -- The First Internet Community

STOCKTALK

We've detected that you're using an ad content blocking browser plug-in or feature. Ads provide a critical source of revenue to the continued operation of Silicon Investor. We ask that you disable ad blocking while on Silicon Investor in the best interests of our community. If you are not using an ad blocker but are still receiving this message, make sure your browser's tracking protection is set to the 'standard' level.

Pastimes : Don't Ask Rambi -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Justin C who wrote (38963)	9/30/1999 5:23:00 PM
From: Gauguin	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 71178

Boy! Do I remember the Teen Burger and the A+W. I lusted heavily after Momma Burgers and worshipped Papa burgers, but I don't think I ever got one. I liked the root beer a lot, and when we went on vacations, usually in hot places, usually in Hell's foreshadow, we would look for an A+W in Green River Utah, Green River Montana, Green River Arizona, and Durango. Even Mum liked the root beer, and she was muy difficulio to please. A Frosty Mug at the window in 104 degrees is hard to beat. I can still remember Dad cranking around and reaching out the window to get our stuff, and then cranking back this way to hand it to us livestock in the back. And the tray, the window tray, had a orange paper top under this brown rubber/plastic fabric, that kept stuff from slipping all over the place. [Carhops are Justifiable Prurient Fantasy.) (I don't know why, but I'll think about it.) (Maybe it's those little aprons, and all the bending over.) (But what's sexy about little aprons? Sheesh. And writing in ticket books?) So flash forward to summer before last, thirty five years later, and thirty thirsty-five since I've been in an A+W. Spouse and I are coming down out of the mountains at about 9:30 after a brutal day doing something. As we're dawdling down the long flat road into town with the windows down, I sure could use a drink. Not beer; I pass the near-town market. Something. I don't know, special. Something special. "You know what used to be special?" (I think too much.) "What," she says. "Well, when we were out in the desert, when I was a kid....yadda yadda yadda yadda Yadda yadda......nice big frosty-glass mug of A+W Root Beer. God I loved that stuff. The glasses were so cold......you could draw stuff on the glass.You could need skin grafts." "So stop and get one. There's the A+W right up the street." I forgot there was one there! Holy cows! I've been here 25 years, and I've never been in there and I totally forgot it's there, going by once a week! Yowsa. I'm not tired anymore! I'm perky, upright, and whizzing down the street! "What time is it?! It might be closed!" Zooom. I turn in, bang, and there's lights on and people and all. Instead of parking to go in, of course I pull up to the station. "Frosty Mug of Root Beer," I say. I look over at MJ, and I'm so happy she thought of this. She's smiling at me. She's happy too. So often what I want is unattainable.... In a few minutes the girl comes out with my root beer. Oh boy. But....it's in a wax paper cup. "Don'tcha have the mugs anymore?" "Only if you come inside. People steal them. Drive off with them." "Oh! I wouldn't do that..." I'm mumbling to myself, re-orienting myself to the century-end."Oh. Okay. Oh. This is fine." I give her the money and get ready. It's warm, that is, not cold, and it's flat. There's not even any little bubbles around the edge. It sat on the tray, and I had to wait for her to come get it. It was a humiliating five minutes, I tell ya.