I could have sworn I actually posted this entry on the same day that it happened, but I can't find it in the blog history, so he we go again!
Whataburger - #9 breakfast combo - Taquito w/bacon, side of hash browned potatoes, side of biscuit and gravy, coffee.
On the morning of day 16, I had been drunk the night before, but of course, I woke up dead early, way before anyone else. I could tell through the vertical blinds that it was a nice bright day outside. It was very tempting, especially when contrasted with staying in a mostly dark room listening to the snores of my bandmates. I flipped open my laptop and couldn't get a signal, then decided to pop out into the sunshine for a smoke. When I got outside the door, I was greeted not only by our bright star overhead, but also by air that was pleasantly room temperature - just how I love it. Before I even lit the butt, I realized that I wanted to go off on my own for breakfast. I jumped back inside the house long enough to grab my wallet then headed over to the little convenience store a block over that I'd been hitting for the couple of days we'd been in town to see if I could get a good recommendation.
The clerks at this particular store were just the sweetest ladies ever. Every time I went in for a pack of smokes or some lemonade I ended up with a conversation for free. This morning was no exception. I picked out a chocolate milk and went up to the counter. We exchanged pleasantries and transacted our business, then I asked about breakfast places. I was initially thinking maybe I could get pointed towards a little diner or something, but the very first thing to come out of her mouth was Whataburger, which was just a couple blocks away. I remembered walking past it the night before and noting its location. I figured: what the hell?
I haven't been to a Whataburger in years. I used to spend a lot of time at the one in - where was it, North Richland Hills, TX? - as young punks because it was open 24/7 and way cheaper than IHOP or Denny's. I remember being hot and cold on their burgers - they were ok. The distinctive part was that they had mustard instead of ketchup on them.
But I don't believe I had ever had their breakfast food. My breakfast this morning was on the good side of average. I don't really look for spectacular in fast food, so I was satisfied with the quality of the food. But my breakfast was turned into something special by the atmosphere. This particular Whataburger is one of the old ones, an A-frame building with carparks all around it, and it's run old style as well. They have drive up service outside, as well as booths on the inside. It felt like taking a step back to a kinder and gentler than it really was version of the 1950s.
First off, southern accents and food just go hand in hand to me. When I got to the register, I ordered and the "thank you, ma'am" just flew out of my mouth. The reciprocal smile felt genuine and spread to my face as well as I accepted my coffee cup and the little "table tent" with my order number on it. Whataburger uses little folded pieces of plastic for customers to put on their table so that the servers know which order goes to which table. Yes, they bring your food out. My server also had what almost looked like an old cigarette girl tray laden with ketchup, syrup and other condiments as well as napkins, plasticware and coffee fixings, and took her friendly time making sure that I had everything I needed at my table to enjoy my meal. Let me tell you, I did.
Sometimes it's all about the food but other times it's about the social aspect of eating. That's exactly how it was this morning and I'm grateful for such a good start to the day.
After my return from breakfast, all smiles, I met back up with the rest of the band, we got our shit together and headed out of town on the way to our next show in Ocean Springs, MS. We weren't entirely sure what to expect from the gig. I have been through Mississippi a few times before and what I felt the most was fear.
On my first visit to Mississippi, I was 16 or 17 years old - mohawked, decked out in leather jacket with huge anti-nazi symbols, bondage belt and Doc Martens. My road dog Jason and I broke down in Biloxi, MS on our way from New Orleans to Florida. We had blown a hole in our radiator and had to pull over at a gas station to try to figure out a plan of action. Within minutes a state trooper pulled in and ran our IDs for suspicion of being punk in public. Once he realized we weren't wanted criminals or runaways, and that our car actually belonged to us, he warned us that we should do our best to get gone before the locals took too much notice of us. Yes, let's take a second to think about that - the statie was warning us that the rednecks would attack us if they saw our funny-haired anti-racist selves. We got a replacement radiator and got gone quick!
I had also heard stories from a lot of my hitchhiking friends who had told about hitching through and getting arrested for vagrancy (having less than $30 cash on them was the definition at the time, I think) or for hitchhiking itself, doing a week in jail, then getting released and having no choice but to go back out to the highway and try again to get the hell out of town before getting picked up again. Walking was not allowed on the highway, but the highway was the only way to get out of the area. I had one buddy who said he had ended up being arrested three times in a row, just trying to get the hell out of town.
On the other hand, we had heard some good stories about the venue that we were booked to play that night. The place is called the Squeaky Lizard, and it is referred to as the CBGBs of the South. We aimed to find out what was really up in this day and age.
On the way there, we made one stop for gas and food, and I had my second and final meal of the day - Popeye's Famous Fried Chicken. Can't help it, I love Popeye's. I lived off of it when I was homeless in New Orleans as a teenager. I got a three piece meal with mashed potatoes. The spiciness of the potatoes is what really sucks me in. Also, hell yeah, biscuits.
Well, we finally arrived at the Squeaky Lizard, and it was a cool place! It was in a storefront, pretty unassuming from the outside. On the inside there were flyers all over the walls, plenty of bands I know or have heard of that had coming through, plus I found out they sold the big mouth hand grenades of Mickey's!
Mickey's is pretty much my favorite malt liquor. Enough that I have the famous hornet from the cap tattooed on myself.
I have to say, Ocean Springs, MS, acquitted itself quite well. We played a fun show to a wicked punk rock bar. I got high for free, got drunk on Mickey's, whiskey, and who knows what else, and then we got to go to another show after ours and had a hell of a time! Now we're looking forward to our next visit there. Also, the next day, we had some AMAZING food, but that's for the next post!
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Chestnut Growler plays drums for The Swaggerin' Growlers, a punk/folk band based in Boston, MA. He tours full time. This blog is about the food experienced on the road: the good, the bad, and homemade and the gas station sammiches. You can find the band here: The Swaggerin' Growlers
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